A Hero must be skillful in no fewer than three forms of martial combat  

-Hero’s Guild Book of Rules

   Rule # 7  

   Riven returned to their camp baring an armload of dry wood. A decent pile of wood had already been gathered and she added her armload to the pile. Skemm and Will were busy laying out their bedrolls while Feral strung up sheets of burlap cloth over each one. It was unlikely to rain but Feral hated few things more than being rained on while sleeping. On the outer edge of their camp, a collection of small animals had been skinned, gutted, and hung along a branch in preparation for that night’s dinner.

   They’d been traveling for a week now and the land was much rockier, and the trees less dense, in this part of the Northern Realm. Given the speed with which Feral and Skemm had taken on the quest of returning the cattle, Riven had worried that their haste would leave them wanting for food. Neither Feral nor Skemm had stopped to acquire a pack animal or additional supplies for the journey. There was very little big game for them to hunt in this area but the small, wild goats, hairs, and ground squirrels were common enough. There were also plentiful edible roots and Riven was glad she’d developed a taste for them early in life. Feral, Skemm, and Will tolerated the limited and admittedly bland food options.

   Riven busied herself with getting the fire going and she concealed a grin as she watched how Will alternated between shadowing either Feral or Skemm. She could tell Will’s behavior was both slightly irritating and yet endearing to the other two.

     “One week down,” Riven called over to Will in an attempt to distract him and give the other two a break. “Only a few more days before we catch up to the army.”

   Feral, who often didn’t catch on to Riven’s subtlety, joined in the conversation. “I’m just grateful they left us an easy trail to follow,” he said and tossed a dried cow pie onto the growing fire.

   “What are you talking about?” Will asked.

   “Where do you think these,” Feral said, holding up another dry cow pie, “came from?”

   “Oh,” Will said with dawning comprehension.

   Skemm, too, came and joined Riven by the fire. She’d previously erected a pair of forked branches on either side of the fire, a third branch resting in the two forks. Will had arranged a couple of the dead animals to hang over the fire along the supported branch and they were nearly done cooking.

   “They’ve been traveling in as straight a line as they could with all those cows,” Feral began, “Trying to catch up with the main army as quickly as possible.”

   He picked up one of the smaller sticks from Riven’s pile and began to draw in the dirt beside the fire.

   “The Frozen Mountains run along the the border between the Western and Central Realms,” Feral said as he drew out his map, noting the mountains as he went. “And the River Syrne cuts such a deep canyon along the Western Realm’s Southern border that it’s impractical to send their armies that way,” Feral added a waving line to his drawing. “That’s why the Western Realm has been cutting along through the Northern Realm. Now, they could have gone straight through to the Central Realm but that would have led them right into King Yarin’s most heavily defended regions” Feral added a few small circles, “ and so instead they’re making for  the lowlands just beyond the foothills of the mountains. Fortunately,” Feral went on, “the two main armies aren’t there yet. Currently they’re encamped between the peaks of the Twin Mountains and the cattle are being held by a smaller army lower down the valley where there’s decent pasture.”

   Feral added these last few marks and sat back for the others to get a better look.

   “And you know all of this how?” Skemm asked. “None of us have scouted that far ahead.”

   “It’s me,” Feral said as though that should be explanation enough and putting on what he certainly thought was his best smile.

   Riven slipped the stick from Feral’s hand and began adding to his map.

     “There use to be a third army not too far from our camp,” she explained, “but they were mostly wiped out about a month ago and it should have taken them a few weeks at least to re-figure their strategy for the war with a third fewer soldiers.”

   “What happened to the other army?” Will asked.

   Riven chuckled and Feral joined her, though neither of them explained. It wasn’t that Riven didn’t want to tell them. It was just that in her experience people didn’t usually believe such stories. It also didn’t help that half of those stories were usually made up.

   “They’re just trying to impress you,” Skemm said at last with a dismissive look at the two of them. “Go on, take some meat and go eat in your bed.”

   Will was clearly disappointed but he obeyed, taking a squirrel and sticking it on the end of a short knife to carry it away with him. He bundled himself into his bedroll and began munching away on the squirrel.

   “I don’t need you filling his mind with false ideas,” Skemm hissed at them.

   “We’ll need to set a watch,” Feral said, ignoring Skemm’s admonition. “Two hours a piece. First Riven, then you,” he nodded to Skemm, “and I’ll take the last watch. We’re sheltered enough here that it’s unlikely anyone will see our firelight but a passing scouting party could still come across us.”

   With that Feral got up and cut off a large piece of a goat and carried it over to his bedroll.

   “Feral?” Will said when Feral had laid down on his own bedroll a few feet away from Will.

   “Yes, boy?” Feral replied without looking at him.

   “Why do you look so familiar to me?” Will asked.

   Riven maintained her act of nonchalance, tending to the fire and carving herself and Skemm each a piece of meat, but her ears perked up and she chanced a glance over to Feral. He was busying himself with his bedroll and doing everything he could to appear calm and uncaring. Riven knew better.

   “Don’t know,” Feral said at last.

   “It’s just that,” Will went on and Riven saw Feral’s jaw clench slightly, “when we were first leaving town, you looked at me and…and for a moment it was like you were someone else and I felt like I knew that person, like I’d met you before but couldn’t remember.”

   Feral by this time had taken out his sword and was inspecting it for any dings or blunt edges. His roasted goat now laid forgotten on the ground beside his bedroll and Riven very much doubted Feral would have much appetite until morning.

   “Master Feral?” Will prompted and Riven shut her eyes.

   “Don’t call me that,” Feral did not shout but there was a definite hint of a growl. “Titles are for nobility and Heroes and I am neither.”

   Will shrank back somewhat into his bedroll but when Feral spoke again his tone was softened.

   “Get some sleep,” Feral said, “We have a long day ahead of us.”

   With that, Feral got up and strode out of camp, beyond the firelight and out of earshot. Skemm, of course, had noticed the entire conversation and was as perplexed as Will by Feral’s behavior. She gathered up her meal and went over to sit beside Will. She pulled a small piece of stale journey bread from her pack and handed it over to him. He brightened up at the sight of the piece of bread and he happily began moistening a corner of it in his mouth.

   “So, your first week as a Hero’s apprentice,” Skemm said, “What do you think?”

   “I still can’t believe it,” Will said, brightening up. “No one at the tavern ever thought I’d accomplish more than emptying bedpans and delivering meals.”

   “Well, we’ll show them,” Skemm told him.

   Will nodded enthusiastically and together they ate in silence.

   Riven let the fire die down somewhat. The nights were still warm and they’d finished cooking their nightly meal. There weren’t many beasts in this area that would pose them any real threat either. Feral could probably find his way back to camp without the light of the fire but she kept it going just in case he got turned around. Feral would probably laugh and ask Riven when the last time he’d gotten lost was, if he knew why Riven kept the fire going. But there was a first for everything and Riven was always somewhat more cautious than Feral.

   Before long both Skemm and Will were sleeping. The nightly insects began to buzz and chirp and they were soon joined by bats that darted and swooped in and out of the fire light, drawn in by the insects that were themselves attracted to the fire. The moon crept slowly over the mountains and its light dazzled off of their frozen peaks and slopes.

   Riven had learned long ago how to keep time by the movement of the stars and it wasn’t long before her two hours were over. Riven gently prodded Skemm’s foot with a stick to wake her up. Skemm looked around, confused for a moment, before she noticed Riven and understood.

   “If Feral’s not back when your watch is over,” Riven whispered, “then we’ll need to break camp and find better cover.”

   “What?” Skemm asked. “When did he leave?”

   “He left right after he spoke to Will,” Riven reminded her.

   “I thought he was just going to fertilize a tree or something.”

   “Not hardly,” Feral said and he walked into the firelight. “I always do that downhill from where I make my camp and I had gone uphill.”

   He was sweaty and his hands and knees were covered in dirt. There were a few new cuts and scratches on his face and hands as well, as though he’d been crawling through thorn bushes. Judging by the droop in his posture he was exhausted. Instead of stopping at his bedroll, however, Feral walked over to Skemm and dropped something on her lap.

   “There was a third army,” he said. “Riven and I crossed their path on our way to the village.”

   Feral pulled his water skin from his pouch and took a long drink before adding, “Your apprentice won’t be ready if you don’t step up your training.”

   With that he returned to his bedroll where he immediately lied down and shut his eyes. Within moments his breathing had slowed and his body had relaxed.

   Skemm picked up what Feral had dropped into her lap. A torn piece of cloth from a soldiers uniform; it was marked with the Western Realm’s insignia.

   “Where did you get this?” Skemm asked.

   Feral remained still and silent on his bedroll.

   “Don’t ignore me, Feral!” Skemm said and stomped over to where he lay.

   “I’d let him sleep,” Riven warned but Skemm just waved her off.

   “I’m sick and tired of your lies and bravado,” Skemm continued, her voice steadily rising.

   “He can’t hear you when he’s sleeping,” Riven knew Skemm wouldn’t listen to her but she felt she had to at least warn her as best she could. As it was she drew her sword and went to stand beside Skemm.

   Feral rolled over on his bedroll so his back was facing Skemm who in turn stalked around him to face him once more.

   “Oh, he’s not sleeping and you know it,” Skemm stated. “He just doesn’t like it when he gets called out on his lies.”

   Skemm stooped down and grabbed Feral by his shoulders. She had just started to shout Feral’s name when steel flashed and the sharp ring of metal striking metal pierced the night. Skemm cried out and fell back as Feral, suddenly on his feet, struck again and again with his sword. Each of his strikes, though aimed with deadly accuracy at Skemm, was turned aside by Riven’s blade. Feral’s expression was one of complete and deadly focus whereas Riven was calm and relaxed. After a moment Feral seemed to come to his senses and he stopped attacking, looking around as though seeing their camp for the first time.

   Skemm was still lying on the ground where she’d been forced to crawl backwards and away from his assault, panting and uncertain at the suddenness of Feral’s attack.

   Feral looked from Skemm on the ground to Riven standing before him, sheathing her sword, and then down to his own sword clenched in his hands.

   “Did she—

   “Yes,” Riven interrupted Feral before he could finish asking his question.

   “And you—

   “I did,” Riven answered him, again before he could finish speaking.

   “And I—

   “With vigor,” Riven said, “But fortunately you still fight poorly when you’re like that so no harm done.”

   Riven offered Skemm a hand up and helped her to her feet. Skemm was still eyeing Feral with intense distrust.

   “You are insane,” Skemm finally hissed. “Both of you,” she added and stalked away from them both and sat herself down beside the fire.

   Feral turned sheepishly to Riven and shrugged.

     “Wake me in a couple hours?” He called timidly over to Skemm and she answered him with a thrown rock to his chest. “I deserve that,” he said and lied back down on his bedroll. “Just don’t shout at me next time.”

   Another rock, this time thrown by Riven, hit just to the left of his head and he jerked back from it. He turned and glared at Riven who winked and then laid down on her own bedroll and fell swiftly into a deep sleep.