Not Another Hero

I assumed the caravan's owners and well-dressed accountant took up residence in the huge wheeled cottage Graglori indicated. Though the thought made me cringe inwardly, I knew it would be folly to accept luxurious accommodations.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll just ride and sleep with the other workers."

The old gnome looked looked confused for a moment, but pointed to one of the covered wagons nearby. "Should be room in the rear cart for you," and I thought I picked up on a morsel of grudging respect from his tone.

The wagon was packed with dried food and camping gear, but I managed to string a makeshift hammock up in the back. What it lacked in comfort, my quarters made up in privacy. Packed in among the gear, there was no room for anyone else to ride.



I did have an excellent view of the city as we departed. Sure, I'd left Newwald several times as a youth, but always in the comfort of a gilded carriage, sneaking glances at the world outside when my father wasn't paying attention.

This time, every bump was almost exhilarating. I felt like a child staring wide-eyed at a world he'd only heard of.



I'll not bore you with the tedious details of our weeks on the road. I spent my days in the cottage, pretending to pore over stacks of nigh-undecipherable documents to provide a legal analysis. I didn't know enough to make much of a difference, but I appeared to know more than Geoff did. Enough so to keep him from doubting my credentials, at least.

I usually ate and slept with the laborers, helping them break camp in the mornings and cook food later. My inexperience and soft hands were the subject of ridicule at first, but they came to accept me as we traveled together.

One day, we stopped suddenly. I heard shouting from the front of the caravan. The dragons whined as their riders halted them and I was nearly thrown from my hammock when my own cart came to a stop.



I knew we were in the forested foothills leading up to Eddanar. I scrambled out and made my way to the front.