Garinor paused in thought and considered the things he had learned. “I have to find the prince,” he decided. “He’s the one causing all the havoc. He must be stopped.”
The old woman shook her head. “Very well, very well, though I still think it’s a fool’s errand. You would do better to seek the scepter and leave the prince to his own devices.”
“I appreciate your counsel, but I have to do what feels right to me.”
“Yes, of course, you must.” She paused for a moment. “Well, I can tell you this, then. The patrolmen in town often leave and head toward the south and then return from there hours later. I would guess the prince has set up a camp for himself not far from here. If you would seek the prince, then head to the south.”
“Thank you,” he said, rising up. “That medicine you gave me has my heart and mind racing. I can’t wait. I have to move now.”
“Yes, of course,” she said without feeling. She watched as Garinor adjusted his clothes and secured the short sword to his waist. “Take some sweet cakes with you. You’ll find them there in the cupboard.”
Garinor added these to his inventory and thanked the old woman again for all her help and advice. She encouraged him one last time to change his mind, but he refused. His mind was set.
Into the morning light Garinor went. The low sun crept through the streets of Fellanin as if it were tired. The few men and women pacing the roads walked without a lively spring in their steps, which Garinor thought was an odd contrast to all the cheers and laughter that echoed through the town the night before.
Even the patrolmen were lax that morning, which worked to Garinor’s advantage as he hid behind buildings or barrels. It didn’t take long for him to reach the town border and jog into the land beyond.
Numerous rolling hills dotted the landscape and Garinor couldn’t help wondering what it would have felt like flowing up and down them in a carriage. It would certainly be a fun way to pass the time instead of his current situation, where he often checked around and over his shoulder for signs of pursuit.
The day was brisk in the morning, but it warmed up nicely as afternoon approached. His herb-induced energy was still with him, so he rarely stopped to rest. A narrow stream wound its way among the hills and he was able to drink freely from it when he needed to, which made the journey even more pleasant.
As the sun crested the sky and brought in the hotter afternoon, Garinor heard a series of noises on the breeze. Toward the east, he heard yells and shouts and the clatter of metal on metal. To the south, murmurs echoed from a group of people milling about. He slowed his pace and bent low, tracing the line of the hill on which he climbed, ready to see what was happening around him.
At last, the hill gave way and Garinor dropped to the ground. Below him along a small ridge, several tents had been set up. Only about five men and women roamed around tending the camp, but Garinor estimated the camp could hold a total contingent of about fifty. Some of the people boiled water and soaked strips of cloth in it, then set them aside and boiled more. Another two people cut branches into various lengths. Some were sized for splints; others seemed like walking canes.
The sounds from the east echoed again on the wind. He realized there was a battle going on there and when it was over these people would be tending to the wounded.
As he debated what to do, Garinor peered around the camp again. One tent was much larger than all the others. The fabric itself seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, whereas the canvas of all the other tents did not. The old woman must have been right. This appeared to be the prince’s camp after all. Now he needed a plan.
Garinor should head east to peek at the battle.