Mael watched the boy as he scurried – wasn’t the right word, just the only that came to mind – to a nearby tree and made quick work of the bread he’d been given. Carefully, he studied the boy, reading as much as he could from face value presented to him. The hesitation, dirty clothes and skin, no food, and the most key point the boy was on his own.

So he had a poor, probably orphaned or more probably runaway, city boy. Not much use for travelling, yet alone the wilderness. He silently suppressed a sigh as he put the remainder of his bread back in his bag. He didn’t know where his appétit went, but it was probably a good thing if he was going to have to be providing food for two now, as he suspected he would have to. And for who knows how long?

And as if the boy was reading his thoughts, he echoed the question. “Well, two days ago it was several hours away,” he answered wryly, smiling a little at the look of confusion that came upon the boy’s face. “I met an old man an hour outside of Elearen, the last village I passed through, who told me I only had a few hours of travel before I’d reached the next village, Aeram’s Crossing. But I’ve travelled for two days, and for those two days I have seen no sign of civilization, save the road we were walking on.”

Offering his hand, he added in a more normal tone, “My name is Mael-tuili Ua Conchobair.”