The midday sun shone at an angle, and the breeze carried a hint of chill.
Louis wore a dark gray wolfskin cloak, with a sword at his waist, as he rode along the dirt road.
Several guards followed behind him, all armored and carrying swords, riding in silence.
The most conspicuous figure among the mounted guards was not one of the burly Elite Knights, but someone who still looked rather young.
It was Vale, wearing ill-fitting light knight's armor with a shorter knight's sword strapped to his waist.
He had yet to grow into his frame, and perched on that sturdy horse, he looked every bit a child riding a mount too big for him.
Yet he sat firmly in the saddle without the slightest sway. Clearly, he had worked hard on his horsemanship.
The only thing that spoiled the impression was probably the still-childish expression on his face as he struggled to look stern.
He was doing his best to keep a straight face and project the bearing of someone who was already a great lord's guard.
Yes, he was clearly trying to look cool.
Louis rode past him, glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, and nearly laughed aloud.
Just then, the rich aroma of smoked fish wafted toward them. They were passing the smoked fish workshop.
Smoke curled through the half-open wooden shed, where fish hanging from iron hooks slowly changed color, their aroma spreading on the wind.
A woman in a coarse cloth apron stepped out of the shed and happened to spot Vale riding past.
She was Vale's mother. Sweat still dotted her face, but her eyes filled with joy at the sight of him.
"Oh, it's Vale!" She waved, her eyes curving into crescents. "And the lord is here too!"
Louis