The emerald grass shimmered, heavy with the luscious, beaded dew of the early morning.
"It must have rained before the sun found us," Villen noted, tilting his straw hat back from his brow to squint at the rising light.
The cart gave a violent lurch as a wheel dipped into a pothole, causing the chainmail rings on him to rattle like a bag of loose coin.
Linden winced at the sound, his eyes darting to the shifting treeline.
"The roads are dry enough, at least," he called as he kept his gaze fixed on the shimmering horizon. "No mud to swallow the axles today."
"The Five be praised for that small mercy," Villen muttered, adjusting his grip on the reins."We're already lagging behind the timetable. The last thing I need is to get mired in the muck when we've already had to add leagues to the journey to avoid the main skirmish lines.
