By the time that night fell, the sun dipping down into the horizon somewhere beyond the Octani plains on their left as they continued to trudge the North Road, there was still no town in sight, and apparently they were still a good way off from Kirts.

The worn, dirt path of the North Road under their feet became a wobbly rectangle stretching away from them in the descending darkness, increasingly indiscernible from the grass to either side of it.

‘Well, this is a bit of a bugger,’ said Egea for all of them. ‘You were so keen to keep moving, old man, that you overestimated our progress, and now we’ll have to camp outside for the night.’

‘So be it,’ grunted Primus. ‘It won’t hurt us–we have the necessary equipment.’

Unease churned Horatio’s stomach. While they did have the necessary equipment–he was carrying most of it in his pack–he didn’t feel comfortable about camping out in the open, or so near the road. Sure, he had done it many times already in his short career as a lone-wandering sword-for-hire, but there were now six of them. They were already growing to be quite some band–wait, party–and they were more likely than ever to attract the attention of monsters. It was inevitable that they would need to set a watch, wherever they ended up camping, but they might as well stack the cards more in their own favour by camping somewhere less exposed.

‘I would feel more comfortable,’ Horatio said at length, ‘if we were able to find some shelter for the night.’

‘I completely agree,’ said Primus, clearly keen to keep moving for as long as possible, no doubt to bear them ever closer to Olivia.

‘I know these lands,’ said Ouzo. He licked his lips, making a slurping sound in the dark, then sniffed the air a couple of times. ‘We would indeed not make Kirts until Deep Night, but there are some little forests just a few more leagues ahead, and not too far for us to walk.’

‘We head there to make camp,’ pronounced Primus. He still acted like the leader, even though Egea and Ceres had now blackmailed him into taking on not one, but two more travellers and seemed to be calling the shots at the moment. Horatio supposed that it was still his quest which they were journeying in pursuit of, after all. And he was still the one paying them. Well, three of them, at least.

Another half an hour of plodding forwards in the deepening darkness, barely keeping to the road more by the rough feel of it under their feet than by sight, and then the dim silhouettes of trees became visible off to one side in the blue and black of the star-studded night.

‘Ah, here we are,’ said Ceres. ‘Thank you, Ouzo.’

The druggist gave a small woof of appreciation.

The party made their way off the road and into the wood, where the darkness became punctuated by the pale vertical strips of straight, swaying tree trunks. Barely visible leaves rustled and whispered in a chill nighttime wind as the day’s warmth seeped out of the air. They stuck close together so as not to lose one another completely, picking their way through the trees.

In time they came upon a small clearing, notable because the shadowed strips of tree-trunks fell away for a moment and scraps of moon- and star-light lit a small circle of bare grass.

‘We make camp here,’ Horatio said, taking a turn at playing “leader”.

He took the tent-cloths from his pack, unfolded them, and with the help of the others, set about pitching two makeshift shelters, hanging the thick green material from some branches.

No sooner had they done so than they were set upon by not one, but two groups of monsters that ran into the clearing.

Battle 3 and Battle 4