The road from the mine went southwest. After a couple days underground, Beorn noticed the difference immediately. The air no longer was the stagnant smell of pooled water. Instead, smoke from Ashmark's cook fires rose above the treeline before the walls came into view.
His hand moved toward the saddlebag ledger twice, then stopped both times. There was no new entry to make. The drainage system was functioning and Wulf's foremen had control of the next phase.
He was back to Ashmark.
The convoy had shrunk. Five men were dead. Eight injured had been sent ahead on the first day. That left fewer riders, and the remaining horses showed clear fatigue in their gait and breathing.
The militia still with him were those who had survived the Hollow Hound melee. Experience had changed their behavior in measurable ways.
Godric moved up from the rear without prompting. "Some of the men showed potential during the skirmish," he said. "I suggest to focus on them for a new batch of officers."
