Page 6 of Highland Lords of War & Thunder: The Prequel

He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Peace.

It had become more precious than victory.

After a breakfast of dried meat and quail eggs, he grabbed his fishing pole and headed to the stream.

Legion stood knee-deep in the water that flowed clear and cold over smooth stones. He cast his fishing line into a quiet pool where trout often gathered. There was no urgency. If he caught one, he would eat well. If not, there was always smoked meat in the cottage, and he would make bread when he returned.

Movement along the opposite bank caught his attention.

A doe stepped cautiously from the trees, her fawn lingering close behind. She caught sight of him and studied him for a long moment.

Legion remained still.

Apparently satisfied, she walked to the stream and lowered her head to drink while the fawn ventured into the shallows, splashing at the water before bounding clumsily back to its mother.

A faint smile touched Legion's lips. The woods knew him and he preferred it that way.

He caught a trout and ate well that day. In the days that followed, fishing and the bounty from his garden provided all he needed. He had no desire to hunt, to kill any creatures in his forest.

A week or more passed in much the same way, Legion not counting the days simply enjoying them.

One morning found Legion outside the keep, an axe rising and falling in an easy rhythm as another log split cleanly in two.

The distant rumble of wagon wheels broke the quiet.

Legion rested the axe against the chopping block and watched a lone merchant guide his horse up the winding path.

It didn’t take long for him to see it was a merchant he was familiar with… Toggin, white-haired and weathered face from his endless years on the road. He moved slower than he once did, but there was still strength in his strides.

“Morning,” Toggin called with a wave.

Legion answered with a nod.

“I was hoping I'd find you home. Brought a few things I thought might interest you.”

Toggin yanked back the tarp that covered his wares. Rope. Lantern oil. A new whetstone. Leather gloves. A pair of finely crafted knives.

Legion picked up one of the knives. The blade caught the morning sun. He tested its weight and its balance.

“This one came from a blacksmith two villages north,” Toggin said. “Best steel I've seen in years.”

Legion nodded once. “I'll take it.”

Toggin continued to chatter as he waited to be paid. “Been a busy journey this time. Roads are full of travelers. Seems everyone has news these days.”

Legion laid several coins on the wagon.

Toggin gathered them with a grin. “Most of it is nonsense.” He tucked the coins into his pouch. “Though I did hear something that surprised me.”

Legion slipped the knife into his belt.

“Morra Mist.”

Legion’s hand stilled.

The merchant went right on talking, having failed to notice. “Some rumblings, though no one seems to know about what.”