''Entwade''

''And where will you be riding to?'' Berawyn asked.

The tall man walked here and there, checking his men for the trip ahead. The canvas tents were stroked and packed. Food was rationed and water was poured into their canteens. The horses were fed and watered, brushed and saddled. In less than two hours these things were done. Soon they would leave this place for Snowbourne, the heart of the East-mark.

Cold breeze blew down from the Entwash, over the green fields of Kingstead now wet and dark in the shadow of the night. They have been riding nonstop for three hours.

''Hey! Catch!''