"Feels like rain."
David looked up. "That old wound?"
"Yes," said William. "Aches every time."
"I don’t see any clouds."
"You will."
They sat in silence for a time, firelight flickering off their faces. Their camp sat a few hundred yards from the treeline, ten yards uphill from a stream that fed into the Rose River. Soldiers wandered about, preparing for tomorrow’s incursion.
"Is it too late to say congratulations?" asked William.
"Oh yeah, the promotion," said David. "I made captain just in time for them to send me into certain death."
"It’s not that bad, is it?"
"It’s bad. Rumor round the fort is that the soldiers who went in before got attacked by the forest itself."
"I heard something about that," said William.
"Yeah."
"But we have a dragon with us. That changes things."
"Yeah," said David, staring into the fire. "We’ll see."
Quiet reigned for a time.
"I still can’t believe Zeb quit," said William.
"Me neither," said David. "I thought he’d be in the army forever. Probably make general."
"Any idea what happened to him?" asked William.
"No idea. I think he left the capital right afterwards."
William scowled. "I wonder why."
"No idea. He didn’t say anything."
Another period of silence.
William poked at the fire, scowling. He muttered, "Why did they send chariots?"
"Ugh," said David. "I know. Totally useless in wooded hills. Cavalry too. I doubt the wolves and squirrels are going to fight in formation for us."
"Squirrels?"
"It wouldn’t shock me," said David.
William grinned. "I think the new general just wanted to command horses and chariots." David nodded.
William poked the fire some more. Then he looked up at the sky and said, "Look."
David looked up. Clouds had rolled in.