The air was rather cold at high altitude.
Nefarian spread broad wings and glided steadily above the clouds, leaving the rolling mountains and forests behind.
Veylin sat in the saddle, his coat snapping in the wind.
A short distance behind him, a tough, thick rope extended from the rear of Nefarian's saddle, tied securely around Ola's and Leo's waists.
Leo had his eyes closed, concentrating on maintaining a pale green shield of air around himself and Ola.
They flew through the sky like kites, "towed" by Veylin.
"I swear by my old man's battleaxe! I've had enough!"
Ola's roar warped in the wind.
"Having my feet off the ground makes my bile churn! Leo, can't you make this thing a little steadier?"
"Master Ola, I'm doing all I can." Fine beads of sweat covered Leo's forehead. "Levitation requires a constant supply of mana. You and your full plate armor together weigh nearly as much as a small ogre."
"Bullshit! A true dwarf warrior's weight is proof of strength!"
Ola struggled in midair, making the shield of air wobble.
Leo grunted, his face growing paler.
"Veylin, is the fief really going to be all right with us just leaving like this?" Ola changed the subject to another complaint. "Barrett, that stubborn ox, and Old Walker-put those two together, and they'll be fighting within days."
"They won't fight." Veylin did not turn around.
He had Nefarian slow down a little.
"Before we left, I announced the establishment of an interim governing council and had the Lord's Manor's scribe put it on record."
"Old Walker handles civil affairs-the people and the grain. Barrett handles military affairs-the weapons and the walls. Valerius oversees all the Research Institute's projects."
"If Old Walker and Barrett have an irreconcilable dispute, Valerius has the final say. The three