Greatheart

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Lienwiel whistled a soft birdcall and leaned against a tree while he watched the caravan of ten wagons. His eyes were accustomed to the dimness beneath the trees of Sielwode, so he squinted against the glare on the bright, sunlit grasslands to the south. Still, his gaze was fixed on the tiny specks he knew to be humans. They were just over half a mile away and coming nearer, angling toward the ford in the Star Mirror Stream.

The wagons were heavily loaded, he decided. They moved slowly, though the trail was dry and hard. Because of the lack of rain, the stream could have been crossed farther south, but they were still aiming for the ford.

A soft step told him his call had been heard and answered. Mielinel, a young female warrior, came in sight between the trees and joined his watch.

“Trouble, do you think?” she asked as her eyes followed his gaze, her hand fingering her bow.

“Not likely,” Lienwiel replied. “They appear to be staying with the road, but we’ll watch them.”

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