Free Honor Crowned by Michael G. Southwick Page A

death warrant for the people here.  Flipping the note over revealed the King’s seal.  If the King had not written the note himself, with the King’s seal on it, he might as well have.
     
    “Allow no forces to pass Cragg Keep. 
    No troops available for reinforcement.”
     
    Frustration built up in Jorem to the point he was nearly bursting.  He had to get out.  Even if only for a mark or two, he needed to get away from all of this. His mind was running in circles.  He’d do no one any good if he couldn’t clear his head and focus on the path forward.
    As he left the Keep, Jorem informed one of the sentries to expect him back in no more than three marks.  His men were so accustomed to his early morning jaunts that no explanation was needed.  The sentries’ only comment was to warn Jorem to be watchful of the traps that had been laid.

 
    Chapter XI
     
    Jogging through a forest is never a simple thing.  Constantly having to change direction to avoid trees, rocks and fallen logs is a challenge.  The ever changing terrain and unsure footing requires constant attention.  After about a mark, Jorem slowed his pace, and shifted into stealth mode.
    Quiet and unseen by even the local wildlife, Jorem drifted from cover to cover.  It wasn’t that he feared being observed, just that he wanted to stay in practice.  After all, as Neth had once told him, “It’s far easier to practice when it’s safe than it is when someone’s shooting arrows at you!”
    After a short while, he noticed a subtle change in the vegetation.  The trees thinned to nothing, leaving an open area with little or no brush, and only sparse tufts of long grass.  At the center of the clearing was a small rocky outcropping just visible in the bright moonlight.
    Having nothing better to do at the moment, Jorem approached the rocks.  There he found a small fissure in the ground.  Kneeling down, he brushed a hand against the inside of the fissure.  The rocky surface crumbled at his touch, leaving a light gray powder on his hand.
    The powder appeared similar to something the wizard Pentrothe had shown him several years ago.  Touching a fingertip to his tongue as Pentrothe had taught him, Jorem found this to be the same substance.  It was part of a mixture for what the wizard had called earth magic.  Three different powders were needed to complete the mixture.  This one was what Pentrothe had called the base.
    This substance was harmless by itself, as were the other two.  Even when mixed together they were fairly useless, unless the mixing was done in a precise manner, using exact amounts of each substance.  Of the other two, one was commonly found in animal enclosures.  The other was rare and usually found deep inside caves, or buried deep in the ground.
    If there was a supply of the third substance, he might be able to make a batch of Pentrothe’s “magic” powder.  Of course, the chances of finding all of the substances were slim to none, but he would ask around just in case.  Even if he acquired some, his record at making the powdered magic had been dismal to say the least.
    Standing, Jorem brushed his hands off on his pants.  The still night air was cool and moist.  A few night creatures scurried at the edges of the clearing.  With no breeze to rustle the leaves, Jorem could hear much more than normal.  It was so peaceful here.  Jorem took a deep breath and willed the peacefulness to calm his mind.
    Soon, much too soon, there would be no peace.  Nor would there be time for rest.  Between now and then, there was still much work to do.  People were depending on him.  As long as there was breath in his body, he would do all he could to help them.
    A slight sound caught Jorem’s attention.  It wasn’t loud, just a slight rustling of brush.  Something about it just didn’t fit.  Casting his eyes about, he scanned the tree line around the clearing.  Nothing seemed out of place, but something definitely did not feel