Leth approached his father, “Can I have a moment?”

“Of course,” said Sir Wulfslæd. The pair moved a few yards from the troop.

“Do you want to be King?” said Leth.

Sir Wulfslæd chuckled, “I don’t have such delusions of grandeur.”

“Then why are you leading these people if you don’t want the throne. Is the family estate really that important?”

“Few things in life are worth risking your life for, wealth isn’t but family is. I want us to have a home again.”

Leth cheeks reddened. He shuffled his feet.

“You don’t have to say anything, but do try not to look surprised,” said Sir Wulfslæd. “I’m not an emotionless, steel-shrouded scarecrow.”

Leth tapped his staff against the ground.

Sir Wulfslæd sighed, “Observe how I lead. Then, should our family fortunes be reversed, you will know what to do. You are my son; I want to help you achieve your goals with both competence and flair. If you wish to explore your magic, you will need an estate to pay for it.”

“That wasn’t the answer I was expecting.”

Sir Wulfslæd frowned, “Perhaps it will revise your opinion on me. Why don’t you go and see how our two scouts are doing.”

Leth nodded and hurried towards the gate, grimacing. Why do I always say the wrong thing? The fusty murk of the forest enveloped him as he skirted the treeline. Yellow moats of light flickered at the edge of his vision. Leth vaulted a fallen log and almost slipped as his foot touched down on the skittering leaves. He kicked it.

He arrived at the gate. Its hinges resembled an ochre fist the size of his forearm. The gate had been pushed open almost two feet, ripping the ground beneath in jagged shudders.

Leth slammed himself against the planks to try and open it a little further. He bounced off and inhaled between his teeth. Leth rubbed his shoulder.

He slipped his staff from his shoulders and edged through the gap and entered the camp. Cempa and Clæfre had stowed their gear behind the palisade next to the entrance. Leth dropped his pack next to theirs.

He stood, rolled his shoulders, and checked his surroundings. There were five main buildings within the compound, tucked against the eastern, western, and southern sides of the palisade. The northern side was clear. In the centre were eight, twenty-foot by thirty-foot wooden huts with turf roofs, laid out in a grid pattern. A covered well marked the centre of the compound.

Cempa and Clæfre were nowhere in sight. Leth called them.

They didn’t answer.

Leth headed left. The first building he came to was the only visible stone and cob structure. The door was open.

They must’ve gone the same way.

He poked his head through the gap. Inside was a single room with a wooden platform on one side and fifteen shelves. Two barrels squatted in the far corner and eight clay pots perched on the dusty shelves.

A granary.

The next two buildings were built against the southern wall: a communal hall and lean-to over the remains of a crude smithy. Both buildings were empty.

Between a stout tool store and a large empty charcoal shed along the Western wall, Leth found the two soldiers.

“Anything interesting?” said Leth

Cempa grunted and shook his head.

The trio examined the rest of the compound together. Two of the huts had eight beds a piece, the other six were two-room, family huts. They were as sparse as the rest of the compound. The well was nailed shut.

“These people didn’t leave in a hurry,”said Cempa.

The trio returned to the gate.

“I’ll head back to talk to Sir Wulfslæd,” said Cempa. “Leth, try your magic. Perhaps you will have more luck than us.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Leth.

“Clæfre, take our packs to the communal hall and scout around again,” said Cempa. “See if we missed anything.”

“I will use every faculty I have to uncover their secret stash of sweets and booze,” said Clæfre.

Leth propped his hexagonal staff against one of the watchtower’s posts and climbed its rough wooden ladder. He hauled his slight frame onto the platform and leaned on the railings.

Even twenty feet in the air, the trees towered above him, getting taller further in.

What is visible in the mundane is often reflected in the aether, or is it the other way around? None of my tutors could answer that. I need a spell that can examine a huge area up close, yet reveal a large area.

Leth spent five minutes recalling and practicing his shapes on the chest-high walls of the tower.

Let’s get this over with.

He traced the patterns in the aether with his mind. The tips of his fingers twitched. Leth coaxed a tendril of power into his construct, forcing the scant moisture floating in the air to form a pair of perfect lenses and three poles of ice.

For several minutes he tinkered with the distance between the two lenses. Once he was able to bring the distant trees into focus, Leth fixed the two lenses between the ice poles.

Taking his knife, he carved symbols into the ice to maintain the spell without his direct interference. Leth examined his telescope and nearly hurled it from the tower.

Stupid thing is melting too fast.

Leth divided the forest into quarters, put the freezing telescope to his eye, and examined each area.

Trees, trees, and more trees! It was hard enough to make the damn telescope, let alone spot anything.

He lost track of his position.

Fuck!

The wind rustled the treetops as Leth bashed his staff against the railing. He followed the rippling treetops and squinted.

What’s that?

He peered through the telescope. A thin, yellow mist cascaded over the top of the trees from the centre of the Wúduwésten.

If the forest has taller trees the deeper you go, the tallest should be in the centre, but they aren’t, and why is it filled with Feorhlíf aspect magic?

Leth marked the direction and hurried down the ladder.