Don's Story

So he's about twenty-four now, then. That's a little younger than I had guessed, and only two years older than me.

"Your quests were to rescue naked princesses?" I ask.

Don seems a little embarrassed. "A couple of them were to rescue princesses, and it turned out that their captors had kept them naked, yes."

Taking pity on him, I change the subject. "I'm surprised that you don't have a horse. That armour looks rather heavy to walk long distances in."

Don sighs. "Until a day or so ago, I did have a horse. But he stumbled and broke his leg, and I had to dispatch him to put him out of his pain."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you. I should be able to purchase a new mount at the trading post - and one for you too, if you can ride."

"I'm afraid that I can't."

"Then we will have to share a horse, with you sitting in front of me."

I stifle a yawn. It must be two or three in the morning by now (though the moon gives enough light for us to see by), and I'm feeling tired, the refreshing effect of my swim having long since worn off.

"I know it's very late, but we should reach the trading post in another half an hour or so, and then we can rest," Don reassures me.

1. Sure enough, before too long we see the trading post ahead of us.
2. But when we reach the trading post, all we find is an abandoned, blackened shell. Somebody has torched the place.
3. But before we can reach the post, we are ambushed by a group of men in black robes on horseback. "Artazian Raiders!" Don cries, drawing his sword.

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