The next day, a little after dawn set the tops ablaze, we left the Guson farm. The path was narrow and damp, wedged between trees, tall dark holly trees and twisted hazelnut trees that leaned over the path to form a tunnel of dark vegetation. I barely had time to sleep an hour before we left, and the coolness of the morning had woken me up enough to add to my foul mood. I had refused to let Ulrick take me with him on Berda, and it was while I was nodding off that I clung to Pike's saddle on the forest trail.

Shortly after our departure, we reached a crooked bridge of stones and trunks from which hung long bangs of lichen and beyond, we could see the pale line of the road. At this point, the stream was bending southward and bubbling along the pavement towards Whitewood and the Brown. On either side of the road, the trees had been cleared on about fifty spans (Ulrick explained to me that this was supposed to discourage bandits) and the cleared area had been overgrown with brambles and a variety of other thorny bushes. We turned east towards Long-Vein. The horses' footsteps were beating on the wooden road and, lulled by the bumps and early morning bird calls, I began to fall asleep.

All the while, Ulrick whistled radiant tunes with an annoying lightness and interspersed my drowsiness with smiles that wrinkled his scarred face. His good mood was unbearable. "Nothing beats the hospitality of a woman who wants you, yunling, and damn it, she wanted me. Soaked like a summer storm," he would occasionally say, quite satisfied with himself. I wiggled, red to the ears, cursing him, and he then had a big laughter that echoed through the trees. "You'll soon understand," he chuckled, and although my indignation was far from feigned, it was also tinged with curiosity. I was getting to an age where my thoughts about Brindy were confused with more adult feelings, and that sometimes made me feel very uncomfortable. In spite of all the efforts Ulrick made to make his presence unbearable, I fell asleep in the saddle well before noon and didn't have the energy to protest when he grabbed me by the collar to put me between the reins of Berda. I sank into a swaying sleep from which I was pulled, from time to time, by the foreign sounds that came from the traffic on the road. We soon met other travelers, and their din caressed my erratic dreams.

Ulrick chatted for a while with a young waddan merchant on his way to Culon, then we passed his ox team and the large barrels of vinegar they were dragging. My rest was interrupted on two other occasions on the way. The first time, it was a painted acrobat leading a group of greedy pickers and blowing loudly into a reed flute. Then there was the hoarse warning from one of the craggy guards of the caravan behind which we found ourselves trapped, shortly before we left the main road between Whitewood and Culon. With a gesture, the man made us understand that he did not want us to come any closer. When Ulrick offered to trade one or two arrows for a few skins, the man at arms simply notched an arrow with his composite bow, without taking his suspicious eyes off us.

"Look," the Val gently pointed the guard with his chin.

"It's a Kadji, from across the strait. We don't see many of them abroad anymore since they're fighting again with Rajja." I repressed a yawn as I scanned the shaggy face and the ferocious gaze that swirled around under the stained silk headdress. The man wore a long, dusty tabard with bluish reflections, which must have been once covered with intertwined patterns. "The great desert creates harsh people, yunling," he whispered in my ear. "They have thirst, the sun, hunting spiders, and other things. It's said that kadji archers can kill a midge from twenty-five paces. This one looks a bit drunk, so we'll give him as much leeway as he wants." We soon turned right towards the heights of Long-Vein. I nodded painfully, Ulrick pulled on the reins to slow down Berda, and I went back to sleep.

Night was falling when I woke up. What I could still distinguish from the path climbed in pale loops through the woods and, between the conifers, I could see the lights of Long-Vein. A curious vibration resounded in the dark valleys all around us, and it took me a while to realize that it was the rhythm of a drum. Snippets of songs and joyful sounds sometimes filtered to our ears, when they were not lost in the roar of the invisible torrent that flowed somewhere in the forest above. "We're almost there," grumbled the Val, who must have felt me wiggling. "You can get on Pike again, my arm hurts from holding the tether." We stopped while I did so, my heart beating. My gaze did not leave the fire, and I immersed myself in the growing din that emanated from the village. Memories of the Stream neighborhood came back to me and added their strange flavor to this luminous promise that swayed in the night.

Suddenly, the trees gave way to a rocky slope and there, coiled between two hills like a flaming pearl, I had my first glimpse of the mining village of Long-Vein. The torrent that we heard earlier passed with a crash in a dark ravine located south of the village and further on about forty houses clung to the hillside in an uneven semi-circle. In the center, there was a noisy, crowded, black, dirt square, in the middle of which stood the scarred walls of an ancient fortified house. The reflection of the braziers that had been lit all around twisted on the cracks in the old stone, projecting the crazy shadows of the dancers and thieves.

We pushed the horses along the worn path, meandering between the scarred rocks as big as houses. Then the sinuous back and forth stopped, the music became louder than the sound of water in the abyss, and we came to the plateau where the first buildings stood. With his hand, Ulrick pointed to the indented ridge overlooking the village. "The quarries are up there," he said. "They were the best in the Canton before they opened the mines in Culon." When we got there, three or four kids took off into the darkness and made a racket, and loud laughters rang out into the night. There was a smell of bakery coming out of the village that made me hungry. I sniffed deeply at the fresh air and shivered with excitement. Berda folded her ears to express her displeasure at the agitation, and we passed a wobbly stone hut occupied by two drunken soldiers. Ulrick threw a coin on their drinking table, one of the men waved his hand, the other made a toothless smile as he lifted his pint in our direction, and the horses entered the square.

We were immediately overwhelmed by the clamor of the crowd. Standing on one of the large tables that had been set up there, three musicians were beating the rhythm with their clogs, while around them a crowd of dancers were spinning. Further on, a few drunks were enjoying the antics of a wise bear and drinking beer by the ladle directly from the barrel. The smell of smoke and grilled lurs was everywhere and hundreds of skewers were sizzling over the braziers. Ulrick set foot on the ground in the middle of the crowd and I followed his example by using Pike to make my way through the squeezed bodies. I was pushed by a fat woman waving a tambourine, who apologized awkwardly when she almost ran me over, and four little hunting dogs sniffed at me frantically while wagging their tails until we reached a makeshift lean-to, which had been - it seemed - set up to welcome the beasts of burden of the travelers.

I waited, staring at the embers that smoked under the dripping marinades, my stomach distorted with a horrible gurgling while Ulrick negotiated with a pale guy with a crooked nose who had introduced himself as the person in charge of the place. The latter finally accepted two of our most beautiful hides in exchange for special care for the horses, a hoof cleaning, a ration of oats and above all an individual stall. When the man disappeared in search of the oats, Ulrick took the opportunity to hide his sword under the straw of the makeshift stable and he put the saddles on top of it, then finally we went to join the party, taking the rolls of hides with us. "Your horse is your livelihood," the Val told me as we entered the crowd. "Make sure that your animals are always treated as well as possible, even if you have to settle for less." I nodded, my grudge miraculously dissipated by the music and the spicy scents.

A few hours later, we had traded most of our furs for three bags of beautiful golden cereals, two bags of dried beans, about ten half planks of hard-pine, two large handfuls of iron nails, as many skewers and bread as we could eat and a small barrel of beer. We settled down on a crumbling low wall, a little away from the hustle of the square, to enjoy a well deserved pint while listening to the laughter and the bawdy songs. Ulrick had to loosen his belt, and my stomach was so full that I feared it might explode, but that didn't stop me from nibbling on another skewer marinated in fine herbs and wild honey. Night had fallen and, around the braziers that lit up the village, a ghostly mist ran from the dark woods to the ravine. A staggering seasonal worker stumbled out of the circle, and under the quibbles of the crowd he came to urinate and then vomit a few steps away from us. Ulrick grinned, and the sick man collapsed in a deluge of laughter. It was drinking time, and I was starting to feel light-headed.

"Hey! Trapper! Over here!"

A man was shouting at us from one of the tables. My attention turned away from the drunken spasms and searched the dark. Ulrick stood up suddenly, swearing into his beard. It was the green-eyed peregrine we had met in Woody. I felt more than one person looking at us and the Val had a forced smile as he raised his hand. The peregrine, hidden by his mask of lacquered roots, was sitting on a bench in the middle of the square, his feet on the table, with another guild mate at his side and his arm around a whore with a sharp laugh. The latter seemed to me to be quite drunk. Ulrick grabbed me and pushed me towards the table. "Keep the dagger on hand," he whispered to me. "I don't like that kind of coincidence. If it goes wrong, stay close to me." With my heart pounding, I found steel under my cloak. We went around the acrobat and his dancing bear, who held out a hairy paw to receive a coin. I ignored it, my breath was trembling and my senses on the lookout.

Ulrick stopped in front of the trio and I followed his example, without loosening my grip on the dagger. The crowd seemed too busy dancing or betting on the drinking contests going on at the surrounding tables to pay attention to us. "My friends," the peregrine said and then winked at me, "meet sir..." "Brush. Jaramy Brush" completed Ulrick, on a kind but tense tone, "Brush. Yes, I remember," continued the masked man impassively. "We met... where was it again?" The Val spat on the ground. "Brican," he grunted, staring at his interlocutor. "Exactly!" exclaimed the peregrine, with a joyful air. "You bought me a drink. I'd like to return the favor."

With a very steady hand for someone who had spent the evening drinking, he pushed a half-empty bottle of rotgut in our direction.

Ulrick shook his head. "I think my son and I had enough to drink for tonight. But thank you though." The man stared at us for a few moments, then slipped his arm off the whore's shoulders and, with a pirouette and a stupid laugh from the whore, he suddenly found himself standing on the table. I was slowly starting to pull my blade out of its sheath when his green eyes looked at me. He leaned over us, his faded cape draped around his shoulders. His posture reminded me of a ragged bird, and the fire danced on his mask shining like obsidian. "If you don't want a drink, please walk with me. I need to relieve myself." The Val hesitated, then nodded grudgingly. The peregrine jumped between us, and we followed him as he crossed the square towards the ravine, splitting the crowd as only experienced city dwellers know how to do.

We sank into the night behind the undulating cape. Little by little, the thunder of the waterfalls even replaced the beat of the drums. The peregrine swung on his heels a few spans away from the foaming abyss. Ulrick stepped forward. "Let's stop messing around now," he said threateningly. I saw his gaze wavering between the peregrine and the surrounding darkness, detailing the night in search of an ambush. The mist overflowed from the gorge like an overflowing chalice.

"You are mistaken about my intentions, Ulrick of the val country," said the peregrine in a low voice. "I went to Brown-Horn a few moons ago," he continued softly. "There's still a bounty for the child. You shouldn't have left the woods."

"I don't like being told what I should or shouldn't do," said Ulrick. The shadow of a smile appeared on the peregrine's lips. "Messengers went to Woody and Brican, all the way to Culon too, and even Cover-Pass," he retorted. "I thought you'd like to know. Sixteen gold crowns for the wizard child. A murderer who crippled the Lemis heir and bewitched a val-warrior, I was told." I had a nervous laugh. "Sixteen crowns," I said. "At that price I'll arrest myself." "What do you want?" Ulrick asked the masked shadow facing us.

"To help you", was the unexpected answer. The peregrine spread his arms. "You can't hide forever." He leaned towards us and his voice became lower. "The coming years will be difficult. There have been riots in Brown-Horn, and deaths too. A new king of the Elms has been appointed, I heard, and Leafys are being reborn in secret in Spinel."

I inhaled loudly, but the Val crossed his arms. "Nothing new under the sun," he declared to my surprise. "Brown-Horn smelled like a ripe pimple, even before we left town. The king of Elms, one had suspected it for a long time. I fought for Spinel for two years, and that was already the rumor. The Ketï never faced us, but they were there, and not for nothing. Your secret methods may bemuse the kid, but with me it's not working." The peregrine didn't hide his amusement. "A fresher news then. Carm denied the treaty of the Near-Islands." Ulrick rose his gaze:

"When?"

"A few days ago."

"How do you know, then?"

The peregrine had a strange giggle and took a step backwards. He was literally standing on the edge of the chasm and the damp draughts made his ragged cape rattle. "Here's my advice to you both," he said. "The bounty hunters are still on your trail and for sixteen crowns they won't let go anytime soon. Leave as quickly as you can. You'll be safe with your people, Ulrick of the val country. There are still two more vaïdoerks in Spinel. You should join them as soon as possible."

I sniffed, intrigued, without paying attention to the peregrine's warning.

"What's the treaty of the Near-Islands?" I asked Ulrick. The old warrior gave me a sideways glance that spoke for itself. "It's the treaty that was signed to end the wars of king Ab. It means that sooner or later the cities of Carm will launch a new invasion." The Val stood up. "You still haven't told me what you really want," he said, but now he was only talking to the abyss. The peregrine had disappeared, as if he had simply jumped into the void. We stayed and contemplated the foaming ravine.

The val-warrior chewed his lip.

"We're leaving," Ulrick said after a moment. "To Spinel?" I asked hesitantly, still impressed by the way our conversation partner had vanished into thin air. "No," he answered without hesitation. "It's not a good sign. I don't like being manipulated, and that's what he did with his tricks. You're not ready for Spinel. Taking you there would be a burden to others, and you'd end up with an arrow in your back.

We wouldn't be any safer there than we're here. No, we'll go get our stuff and go back to the cabin. Just like we planned." I agreed, even though deep down I didn't. I felt ready for Spinel. The mysterious rumors that I heard circulating in the wildest canton of Vaw only increased my desire to see for myself what it was all about. In spite of my doubts and my desire for adventure, I followed the footsteps of the Val while we returned to music and dancing. And it was the following day, because of the peregrine and Ulrick's distrustful obstinacy, that I got a taste of battle for the first time, and my dreams of adventure disappeared for good.