Time slowly passed.
A month later, the long procession was making its way along a road through the wilderness.
"Once we cross this mountain and travel for a few more days, we'll be out of the North."
Flar's voice sounded from nearby, carrying a hint of exhaustion.
Hearing him, Arthur turned to look behind.
The long procession was still moving slowly. There were far more people now than there had been a month earlier, numbering somewhere between one and two thousand.
They were the combined households of more than a dozen nobles. The procession included not only the guards and soldiers those nobles had brought, but also their relatives and family members, all making their way forward together.
At the very end of the procession, a line of carriages trundled along, loaded with food and other supplies. Soldiers guarded them as they followed the main body.
These extra people and belongings had seriously slowed the procession, stretching a journey that should have taken little more than ten days into one that had lasted over a month.
But now, they had passed the most dangerous part of the route, and could finally breathe a little easier.
"Let's stop and rest for a while!"
At the front of the procession, Arthur rode ahead and surveyed the distant landscape. After looking up at the sky, he gave the order to those behind him.
The soldiers maintaining order began to slow to a stop, seeking out whatever patches of shade they could find.
It was already October. The hottest days should have been over, yet the weather in the North remained just as scorching, as though the land were a giant furnace pouring down blazing sunlight.
They found a stretch of woodland. After a brief reconnaissance and a little preparation, they decided to stop