The march continued. No one offered word of complaint, though the ale was
gone and the men simply sat, brooding as they ate their meals. During the
day, they marched straight down the road. One afternoon, a young maiden ran
to jerk away a child who stood in their path, smiling and pointing at the
strong men. She was too late, and Ryder struck her down as she rushed past
his mount. His iron sellswords ruthlessly opened the boy from gut to
gullet.

They rode on, the wailing of peasants and the stench of death slowly
receding behind them. So the days passed, and so the pull of the dream
scepter grew ever stronger.
________________________________________________________________________

Word passed before them, of the stony-faced men who cut down all who dared
oppose them, all who ventured near their path.

The small wood-town of Icboth heard the flying rumors. There were no
villages now between them and the roving band. And though there were no
reports of village burnings or of the armored men going out of their way to
harass villagers, the elders of Icboth took every precaution.

“Send a messenger to Castlebury - beg Queen Rachelle to send
reinforcements!” the old men advised, while young men, the sons of farmers
and hunters, buckled on their grandfather’s armor and sharpened rusty
swords.

“But who shall we send?” they asked. “we need our fighting men to defend
us, and the young ones are too young, while we are too feeble.”

A passing wench overheard, her hands full with a large basket of carrots that
she was carrying to the village stronghold.

“I’ll go,” she said.

“But…a mere girl?”

“You got anyone better?” she retorted. “I’m strong as any lad; I can run
faster and quieter than any man in this village. I hunt better, kill
faster, and curse twice as much. Yes, a mere girl. I’ll go,” she repeated.

The men shook their heads worriedly as they looked at this girl they’d
found roaming the wild many years ago.

“Go then,” they replied. “And hurry.”

The wicker basket dropped, rolling the freshly washed carrots into the
dusty ground, and Brigit ran. She had no need to prepare - her dagger was
always by her side, with another in her boot. Bows and arrows were useful,
but she could pick those up later.

Finally! An adventure!