Marrow’s weathered face cracked into a small, tired smile. “I can heal her. I was a bonesetter’s apprentice before the warlord’s men took me.”
Kaelen sat in silence for a long moment. Then he did something no scout in Verveil had ever done. passive pillager
Kaelen had his orders. “Passive or not, a pillager is a pillager. Report their location. The captain will send a squad.” Marrow’s weathered face cracked into a small, tired smile
“I’m not your enemy,” he said quietly. “But I’m also not your friend. The patrol from Verveil will reach this ridge by dusk. If you stay, you die.” Then he did something no scout in Verveil had ever done
Kaelen had his sword sheathed. His palms were open.
Marrow told him. Their band had been forced conscripts of a warlord to the east. When he fell, they fled. They had never wanted to pillage. They had never hurt a villager. They only wanted to cross the pass to the unclaimed marshes, where they could live as trappers and herb-gatherers in peace. But every village saw the crossbows, the axe, the tattoos—and closed its gates.
