Mael walked a short distance from the rest of the group and set up his pack and bedroll. He deftly climbed a thick oak nearby, hoping to catch a glimpse of the enemy’s forces. The Red Valley stretched before him, colorless in the darkness.

Alfaara, Syris, and Veren were doing the same thing, spreading out into the wooded crest, so that if one was captured the others would not be implicated. He crept down from the tree, sincerely hoping that none of them be found. His bedroll, unnecessary but comfortable, beckoned a few feet away, but his stomach pleaded for food. It had been a long walk today, without much time for rest and eating.

He opened his pack and pulled out the dried meat, a waterskin, a small pot, and a few leaves. He pulled apart the jerky, eating some now and saving more for later, and took a few quick sips from the waterskin. It was time for bed.

He climbed into the bedroll, looking up at the stars and wondering. Who was important enough for the dispatch of a scouting party this skilled?