Nim stretched her feet out in front of her, old joints cracking. She was faring better in the back of the wagon due to her size than Gareth was. The sandy-haired lad didn't complain, but Nim could tell by the dark circles under his eyes the journey was wearing on him.
They had been traveling in the back of the farm wagon for nearly two days, sitting among bags of potatoes and carrots on the way to Lord Astrophel's castle. The farmer, Dalen, had let them tag along when their paths crossed in the small town north of the wood. Nim had appealed to Daler's sensitive nature, the farmer took pity on the older woman hobbling down the road with her grandson. At least, that was the story she had told him.
