A strike of flame lit the encampment with light. Astor observed as the flames rose from the stone pit in the middle. The faint scent of blood and fat still clung to his hands as he watched half a dozen men lift a pig onto the rack above the blazing heat. Sitting close by, Astor felt as the heat from the flames began to permeate through his tightly fastened armor.

"Why don't you take off your armor?" Wane said, handing Astor a cup of ale.

"I've got something to do tomorrow. Just planning to sleep with it on."

Wane took a sip and sat down on the bench. "You're gonna get stiff limbs if you do that. Not good for bowing. I hope your fighting is better than your release with the bow."

"I'd like to think I'm better than most. How well do you think I'll fare?" Astor said in an amusing tone.

Wane disinterestedly looked towards the sizzle of the butchered boar ahead.

"By how high-born you seem, I think you're better than most of this bunch. Seeing how William went to bring you here himself makes you all important like."

"Who did you hear that from?" Astor asked, trying to remember the other faces that helped him to come here.

"I saw you when you were un'scending the mountains."Astor watched as Wane drew a phantom bow towards the roasting pig.

Ignoring his eccentricity, Astor continued.

"You saw us from here?" Astor asked in astonishment.

"Why not?" Wane replied with his eyes still locked on the pig. "A hawk can see its prey from almost anywhere at anytime. Compared to that, spotting your same, tall shapes trickle down the mountain is like..."

Wane let loose his phantom arrow. "waking up to the sun."

Astor looked towards the towering silhouettes that jutted out of the darkness.

From here huh? What a strange, interesting fellow.

Astor had close encounters with archers before, but the really good ones seemed to be at a different quality of their own.

"I've yet to see you practice. Are you any good?"

"Not very. Just have good luck."

The two, then, heard the heavy drags of large footsteps approach from behind and turned to look. Astor couldn't help but notice that Wane had turned his head much sooner than he had.

"Hey, big brute. Where were you when we were carving that pig?" Wane questioned the man.

The giant man had a round face, thin eyebrows, and a sun-furrowed forehead that added to his imperious demeanor. His head towered over Astor's. Each of his shoulders was as large as the rumps of the most well-fed cattle, and his body was well-endowed with an even distribution of muscle and fat.

"Someone should have called me over," he said.

The man sat down and looked over at Astor.

"My name's Rurik. Good meet you."

"Astor. I'd offer a hand but.." Astor showed his dirtied hand.

Rurik nodded in a polite gesture and pulled out a white cloth from his sack.

"Here."

"Thanks." Astor took the cloth and wiped his hands before placing the piece of fabric on the bench.

"So, what do we have to eat for tonight?" Rurik asked.

"Some bread and dried meats." Wane lifted his cup to Rurik. "And some ale of course."

Rurik grabbed the mug and emptied it into his throat.

Curious to who was going to be cooking the pig, Astor asked, "Who's going to be sitting there all night to roast the pig?"

"That guy right there. Jeff. He loves cooking. Spent the entire day grabbing foodstuff for the pig."

Astor examined the young lad with short, brown hair, that was attentively turning the pig.

"Got mad at me for feeding them your squirrel. Says 'Don't feed the pigs other meats. It'll ruin its taste.' He's been letting those things fatten up on acorns, corn, and apples like it were his own children."

"Acorns? Apples? Wow, the fragrance that will come from the fat will be remarkable!"

Astor couldn't wait to eat it in the morning.

"He's from nearby, like you. Heard some rich lot bought his pigs for us and now he's refusing to let anyone else cook'em. Strange lout."

You're the one to say that?

The three sat around the fire a little while longer before Astor stood up from his position.

"I've got a plenty to do tomorrow. It was nice conversing with you two."

Rurik smiled, "It was nice conversing with you too, my lord."

Astor gave the big man a pestered smile. It seems that his accent was found out.

He made his way to his tent and rested on the matted floor. Astor stared at the sheen of the tent ceiling. Breathing against the constraining layers of his armor had always given him a strange feeling of comfort and solace. Sleep did not come easy, as the previous days has left his body unnaturally tireless. While gripping at the tingling sensations on his fingertips, Astor started to focus on calming his nerves. He slowly allowed the fatigue of his previous labors to overwhelm the trickling sensations of vigor that the ethereal energy has given him. Now, with an almost endless surge of lethargy replacing the hold that the power once had over him, Astor began to wonder if he could wake up at all tomorrow.