Elvor lifted the front of his kettlehelm. He kept the shade in favor of his vision, but looked out towards the sound of shuffling feet.

“Eyye it’s one of’v em presst fellows.”

Algun puffed his chest out as he rolled his eyes.

“It’s priest you dimmed fool. Their people calls them fellows priests.”

Both soldiers locked eyes and began their stride towards the wanderer…

…neither guard said a word. They locked arms with the stranger and dragged him along the quickest pathway to the gatehouse. Once there, Algun pressed the haft of his spear into the shoulder blade of his prey.

“Well, I wonder what happens when I lift the cowl from your face, father.”

Elvor slid the blade of his spear just underneath the front furl of brown cloth. A balded head bearing the brand of the Devout stared back at both Nordari soldiers.

Algun made a sign in the air, he signaled for the portcullis to open. He grinned into the resigned figure of the prisoner standing before him.

The stranger began to share a remedy,

“There is no great sin in escaping from the Estrians, I believe the tribes know of what I speak…”

“Running away are we?” Elvor began his jest, but Algun made him stop. 

“Speak, priest,” finished the older warrior.

“Aye, I bear the sign…” the priest looked both soldiers in their eyes, “if I were not in flight and instead a wolf, would I not meet my prey easier in different attire?..”

Algun let go of the man as he fell into the stone wall at his back. He huffed and turned towards his young friend.

“I’m not putting letters to the lists in report of this weary wanderer.”

The eldest Nordari turned and began his walk back to the port.

Elvor looked down on the priest at his feet. He sneered at the foreigner, as a sharp voice rapped against his head.

“Back to your post lad!..”

Familiar faces…