Hoe on his shoulder, Tol prepared to return to the onion field now that Odovar had found a mount. However, the warrior chief tossed the reins to him, saying, “Lead him, boy. If I try to ride, I’ll fall off for sure.”

The sun was nearly at its apex. By now, his mother and sisters, laden with spring bulbs, would have set out for the onion field. He had to get back. His father would be angry when he saw he hadn’t finished his work.

He tried to explain this to Lord Odovar, but the warrior interrupted him-or perhaps hadn’t even heard him, so pale and sickly did he look.

“Go east,” Odovar said, his breathing labored and loud. “Whatever happens…go east. Get me… to Juramona. My people will… reward you well.” He then slumped forward, unconscious, arms hanging limply on either side of the horse’s neck.

Tol twisted the reins in his hands, mind working furiously. He could leave the wounded marshal here and return to work, but the man would likely die if he did. On the other hand, Odovar’s request was daunting. Tol had never been more than a day’s walk from home, and then only with his father. He had no idea what lay beyond the green hills east of the farm.

Juramona. The very word seemed mysterious and remote, like a mountain on Solin, the white moon. Could Tol actually go to Juramona? Could he leave his family and make such a fantastic journey?

It was Odovar’s mention of a reward that finally settled the question. If Tol returned home with gold, his father wouldn’t beat him for abandoning his chores half done.

Laying the reins over one shoulder and his hoe on the other, Tol began the trek east.

The land beyond the hills was flat and dotted with trees. From time to time Tol spotted riders in the distance. Since he couldn’t identify them as friend or foe, he hid himself and Lord Odovar until they had gone by.

Mid-afternoon found Tol’s stomach knotted with hunger. He should’ve been home eating his mother’s beans and cabbage. Instead of enjoying that hearty fare he was wandering this endless expanse of grassland, leading a horse with a dying man on it. This was not how he imagined the day would go when he awoke that morning.