He had to ride through Darkmide to keep on the main road and would stop and rest a while there before continuing onto Blackhill. Stopping for only a short while that morning, to have a light snack he’d wanted to press on. He didn’t like sleeping outside, and would be happier in a room at one of the taverns. It wasn’t a difficult journey, the road was well traveled. Many traders from Braxton and other towns and villages, used it often. Already meeting a few merchants, selling fruit and other perishable goods, he‘d refused an offer to journey to Blackhill together. He wasn’t in the mood for company, thoughts about Milo and the other victims of Dryden prayed on his mind. Wishing the traders a good morning, he’d quickened his horse to put some distance between them; using the excuse he had urgent business at Blackhill. The previous year, Darion and Milo had taken the journey to Blackhill together; selling the surplus of wine, it had been a good year. They looked to make a good profit from their hard work.
