Morning

Wim slept like he was sleeping like on a pile of lumber, which he was. It was not comfortable and worse his mind would not let him rest. He understood war was coming sooner than people thought. He even understood the need for it. He still did not like it.

Like many thing in Wim’s life he knew he was trapped. The Duke had chosen his side, the mine. To even go warn the plains folk would be openly going against him. The problem was the openly part. Wim could snub customs. He could have opinions on issues, but directly going against his authority at this point would cost him dearly. The rain had brought moisture, so the grass was wet with the dew. Fire would not work.

Wim wondered if the Mountain people took prisoners or just killed them. A couple of the plains tribe girls could be useful if one of them was a “dream-walker.” That would give him a real advantage. He could also learn their language. He would also be saving them and giving them a more civilized life. At this point, saving young people on either side appealed to him. Another positive thought was the horses might get more horses. A team of four would make the trip quicker and allow for heavier loads.

Wim went looking for Markus to sell his goods and to get orders for what they would want on the next run. This would be in promissory notes that would be paid at the keep. He might be able to bring a load of coal and some iron back.