Waelden

“This is our place.” he said to me, as he tried to pull the rotting wooden door back to cover the cave entrance. 

Waelden moved too, linking our arms to stand closer. He looked at me a moment. We both wanted a home, but as yet the future was uncertain.

“I have to ask, on behalf of another. Do you serve roast meat here?” I sipped at my ale. It was good.

Another day, another evening. 

We reached the end of the track that led to the garrison itself. The previous quiet was broken by the sound of several voices speaking, and several horses moving about. 

Waelden leaned on a fence, and chuckled with satisfaction as he looked out over the garrison grounds. “As I said… well protected.”

On the afternoon of our fourth day under Northgyth’s roof, she called me to speak with her in her own rooms at the back of the shop. Waelden had gone out for a walk along the track he had found that led to the lake, likely taking time to think on his own. Ethel had been playing with Herne and her papa’s goat. Both were safe, in my mind. No harm would befall them while they were out of my sight...I hoped.