The rest of the day passed uneventfully. The terrain grew rougher, the trees more twisted, and the soil more rocky as they went. They were in the worst of it, as Falthejn remembered from the march down, and as Hrothgar confirmed. The next day’s march would be over similar land, but it would take them to the edge of the foothills. That would leave them twenty-two leagues from their start at Syderskogholm two days ago, and under ten from the fort at Flodsvadgard, over easier roads. They would gain the fort on the evening of the fourth day, two days away.
They made camp that night in a clearing atop a hill next to the road, hidden from view by a ragged half-ring of bushes toward the road, and protected by steep drop-offs on the other sides. The evening passed quietly, and Falthejn went to bed early, to the murmur of the others’ conversation.