"Here, have a drink of this," someone said and pressed a skin against his lips. He swallowed several times, the ale burning as it went down, but it helped to clear his head.

"We need to be moving on." This a general statement from Gebo. "There may be more of them about."

"Aye," from the Dragon Lord, as he sheathed his sword. "We can cut through the meadow and pick up the trail farther on."

A hand on his shoulder, light and gentle. "Be ye all right, then, Penrod?"

He looked into Gilder's eyes and nodded, although he wasn't really sure if he would be all right, ever again. She draped a comforting arm over his shoulders and together they turned to follow the rest of their group back to the trail and so, to continue on with their journey.