The sky was turning black when Antello and Walak crept up the hill to join Syman and Lyra. Lyra had not spotted any other raiders on the farm, but the four that entered the farmhouse had not left either.

“It bothers me that we have not seen the farmer or his family,” Lyra muttered almost to herself.

“Perhaps they are in the farmhouse,” offered Syman. “When it is dark I can go down to have a look.”

“Are you crazy?” Walak almost screamed. “We shouldn’t be within a hundred leagues of here. I say we get out of here now while we can. You saw what they did at the Academy.”

“We weren’t expecting them at the Academy,” Antello retorted. “This time they don’t know about us being here and there are only four of them. We can take them.”

“We aren’t taking anyone,” Syman corrected. “I said I would go have a look, not attack them. Besides, we really don’t know how many there are. We saw four, but there could have been more in the house before we got here. I do not look forward to fighting any raiders, not even four. I do not think we would fare very well. They are skilled fighters and we are just students. You would do well to remember that Antello.”

“And we are not going to run away,” interjected Lyra. “Aguara may be in trouble and he has been a friend of the Academy for as long as I can remember. Most of our supplies come from this village. Aguara supplies most of our food. I cannot run away while there might be something I can do to help him, even if it is just going to the village for help.”

“You people are crazy,” Walak spat. His face was white and beads of perspiration dotted his brow. “These people are killers and would not give a thought to cutting our throats. You may want to play games with them, but I am getting out of here. I am not going to die just to inflate your egos.”