The canvas of the tent rippled in the wind while an oil lamp cast shadows over the maps. Facing Vaunn stood a man. His dark hair, streaked with gray at the temples, framed a face marked by a scar running across his cheek.

  “There is one thing you need to understand, Vaunn. You are no longer a child. Every decision you make involves more than just your own life.”

  He stepped closer, lowering his voice.

  “If the situation turns bad, you will not try to be a hero. You will fall back. You will survive. That is an order…”

  Vaunn clenched his jaw.

  “You think I’d run away?”

  “Still as stubborn as ever. A real mule-headed.”

  Before Vaunn could reply, the tent flap was abruptly pulled aside. A man stepped in, short of breath.

  “Horses are coming, Chief.”

  Vaunn’s father straightened at once.

  “Ours?”

  “I think so… but they’re too far away to make them out.”

  They left the tent. Three wolves immediately sprang around Vaunn, leaping toward him. One brushed his shoulder, another circled him before rearing up, while the third barked.

  “Easy… now’s not the time.”

  One of the wolves still tried to nip at his sleeve.

  “Hey! Not the clothes. You can play later, I promise.”

  The three wolves stepped back, ears pricked, tails lashing the air.Ahead of them, dozens of men were already gathered, weapons in hand, their eyes fixed on the entrance to the hamlet.

  In the distance, the pounding of hooves grew more and more distinct. The horses were approaching at full gallop, raising clouds of dust. Suddenly, a voice rang out.

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  “It’s Vilnor!”

  The riders burst through the entrance to the hamlet. They rode between the huts, their mounts foaming, then leapt to the ground. The man was tall and broad-shouldered. Long gray hair fell down his back, mingling with a thick beard of the same color that covered his chest. Vaunn’s father stepped forward to meet him.

  “What’s going on?” Rorn asked.

  Vilnor unfastened a chest strapped to his saddle and set it on the ground. Its surface of solid gold was studded with diamonds. Rorn opened it. Inside lay a small box containing eight small brownish stones.

  “Where did you find this?”

  “We took it from a group of men on the road,” Vilnor replied with a snicker. “They looked very wealthy… but they didn’t know how to fight.”

  He then drew a sword whose blade caught the light in a sharp flash and raised it. Its solid gold guard gleamed.

  “They’ll seek revenge,” Rorn replied.

  He paused.

  “Did you kill them all?”

  “Of course, Chief. And I found this as well.”

  He rummaged through his pockets, pulled out several vials, and handed them to Rorn. Rorn examined them one by one, then opened one. He brought the neck to his nose, inhaled… and grimaced.

  Rorn closed the vial and lifted his gaze to Vilnor.

  “Good.”

  Rorn turned to Vaunn.

  “Take the chest.”

  Vaunn stepped forward, but Vilnor moved into his path. Before Vaunn could say a word, Rorn looked up at Vilnor. His stare struck him like a blow. Vilnor clenched his jaw, then stepped aside.

  Vaunn bent down to pick up the chest. Its weight surprised him; the gold and stones made it nearly impossible to lift in a single motion. He grunted, adjusted his grip, and wedged it against himself.

  Rorn stepped through the entrance of his tent and pulled the canvas aside. Despite the load, Vaunn forced himself forward, shoulders taut, and followed him inside.

  Rorn set the vials on the table; Vaunn then approached and placed the chest nearby.

  “Won’t Vilnor want revenge?” Vaunn asked.

  “I don’t think so. They must have stolen many other objects.”

  He paused, his gaze dark.

  “I don’t like this, Vaunn. Go put the stones and the vials away.”

  Rorn slumped into the chair and let out a sigh. Vaunn grabbed a bag and wrapped the stones one by one before slipping the vials inside as well. Once the bag was closed, he slung it over his shoulder and left the tent.

  Vaunn left the hamlet and disappeared beneath the trees. He walked to an old hollow trunk hidden beneath brambles, knelt down, and removed a plank. Inside already lay jewelry and gold coins.

  Vaunn knelt, opened the bag, and placed the objects inside. He took one vial, set it on the ground, and spun it with the tip of his fingers; red and golden glints danced around him.

  He reached out, caught it before it came to rest… then slipped it into his pocket. He closed the trunk and vanished among the trees.