Garinor looked at the determined faces around him and realized that there was no way he could possibly escape. The challenges of the labyrinth sounded ominous and he wasn’t sure his life was worth exchanging for a stone, even if the stone was special—not that he knew why it was special. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the rock he had found earlier that day he held it out for the woman to take. “Here.”
Cheers and shouts erupted from the group when the woman took the rock in hand. She held it reverently and moments later everyone was dancing and screaming in celebration. Garinor had no idea what the stone was good for, but he didn’t much care. He wanted his safe escape from this wild bunch as soon as he could manage it.
The revelers soon quieted and started packing up their things, while Garinor’s horse was brought over to him. The robed leader from the white camp chortled and examined at the boy. “A wise choice, lad, now be off and on your way. Head due north now and don’t return to seek us. If we see you again, you will be slain.”
Garinor frowned and mounted the horse, happy at least to still have access to it. He pressed his knees into the horse’s flank, casting one last baleful glance at the camp and then sprinting off in the appointed direction.
The turn of events confused him. It was possible that the Seer had guided him to the camp so the stone could be delivered to them. They deeply desired it and had foreknowledge of its coming. He shrugged. His own destiny had been foreseen, so he couldn’t fault the group for knowing the stone was on its way to them. But his mind itched, wondering if he was right to hand it over without a fight. He knew he couldn’t have beaten that many armed men and women, but maybe he could have done something.
He knew deep down he couldn’t have. There were simply too many of them, and though the two camps had been somewhat at odds with each other, they were united in finding that stone. The burst of dancing had been proof enough of that.
It was late afternoon as the horse trotted along. Garinor steered along a small stream toward the north. As they went, he saw a large sweeping house on the eastern side of the stream, but he was still disgruntled over losing the stone so soon after claiming it and he couldn’t face running into another group of strangers. He marveled at how from one side the house looked small but as he kept moving it seemed to grow. He noticed several children running about, but still he opted not to stop the horse.
He continued north into the early evening and there he was forced to stop. Ahead of him was a large contingent of soldiers who appeared to be gearing themselves up for a battle. Swords were sharpened and bandages were prepared.
Garinor’s horse pawed at the ground, waiting for him to decide. He wasn’t sure if he should sneak off and go around the troops or if he should ride directly in and then pass through. His biggest fear about skirting around them was if they had sentries in the area, they might mistake his presence, thinking he was a scout for whomever they were preparing to fight.