The land north of Hanumar was waterlogged with spring-swollen streams and rivers. According to Edric’s sketchy knowledge of the region, high moorlands beyond the border stayed winter-bound for a long time, and the living was hard.
“I understand they raise sheep,” he added.
Bardic sniffed the wind. He hand-signaled Vorel and the two reined in to exchange opinions.
“We’re in for a hard blow – we need to find high ground after the next river crossing!” Vorel called to the four others as he resumed his place in the cavalcade.
“Anything on our back-trail?” Morath asked uneasily. The hedgerows and coppiced spinneys of the area, though not dense, prevented any visibility further than a longbow’s shot.
“Could be,” admitted Vorel, “but if we swing up the river instead of crossing it directly, it will take anyone a while before they are sure which way we went. It’ll be a more difficult job getting out, of course.”