It was a pretty day, for all the nights now grew chill, and the sky stood blue as polished steel above us, billowed to the north with folds of white and grey that threatened rain. The air was edged with autumn’s promise. We had held council the nights before, and decided that this was where the women and children and old folk should leave us. Winter comes swift in the Highlands and the animals left behind would need tending, the brochs and homesteads mending, the crops gathering. I had feared that some warriors would desert us in face of a winter campaign, and spoken long of Chaldor’s soft winters, but none did. It seemed as if all were fascinated by this great adventure, nor less that those pledges made to Ellyn were held steadfast. I wondered how many would return here. We camped outside the town—which had already sealed its gates against us and manned its walls—and I went with Shara and Ellyn, Mattich and Jaime and Roark to persuade the authorities that we intended no harm, but would go by peacefully to the Geffyn Pass.
