Perenenda had set out from Helembasil's house with her Reapers, Butchers, and Nathamaket refugees. The Reapers, led by Dao, took the front of the line as they were the most familiar with the terrain. Perenenda followed, with Big Tim beside her. The refugees followed with Little Tim, leading goats and wagon-pulling horses full of supplies. At the end of the line was Kamfongil’s Butchers, protecting the caravan. Her company had grown to four wagons, thirty riders, and nearly two hundred on foot.

They followed the river through the Xaykan, Mahi, Iha, and Nara territories but as the rains began to fall they moved to a higher road. In every territory, many townsfolk were beginning their migration to higher ground to avoid the floods, but some came to ask to add to her crusade. She was growing in popularity as she made her way through each territory. Some cited the need to chose to join her cause, while others sought to leave their lives behind and hoped a better one waited at the end of the journey. Many offered food and supplies for the journey. She was sure they didn’t actually know what her cause was. She wasn’t sure if she even knew it herself.

When they entered the last territory of Lanin before leaving Neredun, there were small crowds that greeted her on her journey, some bearing gifts.

"What do they think I have done to deserve their affection?" Perenenda asked.

"It's not what you have done," Big Tim said. "For so long you have listened to the voices of your father and the other clan leaders on their title-furs. You've never had a chance to hear the voices of the people. They are tired of being left aside, treated like a lower class based on old rules and petty politics. This now is their voice. They lend their voice to what they think you are about to do."

“And what do they think I am about to do?”

“You are the Princess of the mighty Burul clan who has given up a palace life. They think you are going changing things for better.”

“You sell dyes, you say?” she asked. “You don’t speak like a traveling salesman. Sometimes I wonder about you.”

Big Tim blushed. “Sometimes I wonder about myself.”

In the Lanin territory they stopped in Herulomath, a small town known for the keeping and trading of sheep. A light rain had begun and they arranged for shelter in a farm. They opted to stop at a smaller town even though it was a bit more out of the way than risking staying at Nakhieh, Lanin's capital. Perenenda wanted to prevent any conflicts with Lord Laninilor. The Lanin territory was at the most western end of Neredun and the furthest from the Burul territory, and for generations were rivals with Perenenda’s family.

In early times the Lanin clan ruled over Neredun when the kingdom was young. Many songs were sung of the Golden Age about the two kings Laninmeni of Neredun and Lanfryd the Uniter of Kienne, gathering at Lanfrydhall’s famous libraries. They told of each holding onto a half of an ancient scroll that documented the journey of Satlilat who led his pilgrims from the Smote and into Kienne. Each king, with a hand on each section of the scroll, standing together and joining of these halves to reveal the early histories of the people, and from that artifact came the universal calendar. To this day, Lanin claims to have created the calendar. Laninsuren, another Lanin king, was also responsible for establishing the strict law of the Trees and the Rootless, the caste system forbidding all baseborn and their descendants from ever owning property or holding titles. For these reasons Lanin always held great pride in the forging of Neredun and saw themselves the greatest Tree of all Trees, and the true rulers of the kingdom.

Lord Laninilor also had the largest army outside of the Burul territory, as they bordered against the Soot. Though Laninilor had no reason to stand in their way, Perenenda knew Laninilor and King Burulgi had strained relations, and she did not want to give Lanin's lord any excuse to make their passing through of their country problematic, especially now that they numbered over two hundred.

They rested their horses and replenished their supplies. Perenenda had come to rely on Little Tim as he had become adept in trading goods, and to help oversee any repairs of the wagons. He helped identify the cooks, tailors, and smiths in the traveling company and saw to it that all skills were utilized as best fit. Everything was written in his journal. The men soon recognized that Little Tim was the fastest way to communicate important matters to her, and so he took every matter to her until he had to learn her look of annoyance and that not every matter was urgent.

Still, the boy’s curiosity impressed her. Neredunian children were discouraged from being too curious about too many things before being of age and aligning to one of the three gods. This was to prevent disappointment should a child dream of, say being a warrior, but aligned to the Foam God and needed to pursue a life of industry. But the boy was bound by no such rules, and he felt like he simply had to learn everything. He asked so many questions, and when the questions stopped, she knew it meant he had figured things out for one thing, and the next wave of questions would be coming for the next thing. It was because of the boy’s involvement of so many aspects of camp that she made him part of her daily council.

While they rested at the farm in Herulomath, the members of her council gathered by a table set by a fireplace. Dao had accompanied her from her room, and Big Tim and Kamfongil were already there. The boy was usually the first to every council meeting, but he was suspiciously not there.

“How are the food supplies?” she asked after she sat down and had some tea.

The council looked at each other.

“The boy takes care of such things,” Kamfongil said.

“Very well, then what of the people? Any ill, or hurt that needs aid?”

“Little Tim takes an accounting of those as well, your grace,” Big Tim said.

“Fine, the boy manages our affairs but he is not here. How about the horses, should I wait for him as well?”

“My horses are fine,” Kamfongil said. “Two are getting new shoes in the morning.”

Perenenda drummed her fingers on the table. “Is this how councils are run by lords and kings, I wonder. Talk of food and horses.”

“Talk of horses is important, your grace,” Big Tim said. “Every army must take care of its cavalry.”

“And how many horses do we have?”

“Thirty,” Kamfongil answered. “But we are horsemen, not cavalry.”

“No they are not,” Big Tim agreed.

“Every Tree Lord is renown for their cavalry,” Perenenda said. “Captain Dao, how strong was my Uncle Helembasil’s mounted soldiers?”

“Near three hundred, my lady.”

“Sounds exciting, three hundred horses,” she said. “Then we could talk about how many of them needed shoes.”

Little Tim burst into the farmhouse.

"Where have you been?" Big Tim asked.

"There are a hundred horsemen, armed and trailing us from behind," Little Tim gasped, trying to catch his breath. "No banners identifying them, but I was told to tell you they are moving like a storm."

"Bloody Pyderi," Kamfongil cursed. "I knew it was too easy."

"Pyderi would not have a hundred horses," Dao said. “They would eat them or trade them before they trained to ride that many.”

"We need a cavalry to fight off a hundred horses," Big Tim added.

"We cannot have a fight in the town, or else Laninilor will give us trouble," Perenenda.

“We should evade until we know who they are,” Big Tim advised.

"We meet them head on before they reach us," Kamfongil said, rising and walking out the door.

“Or that,” Big Tim said, rising.

The Butchers mounted their thirty horses and those capable of fighting marched back toward the edge of the town. The Reapers served as the front line with spears and shields while the others braced themselves behind them.

The cloud of dust from a hundred horses drew nearer as the rains had not yet dampened the ground enough to weigh down the dust. Big Tim stood next to Perenenda, away from the line. “When it begins I will stay by your side, my lady.”

The trail of the dust then stopped and the cloud hung thick. The drizzling rain increased and settled the dust. The riders had halted at the sight of the front line, then reformed into a straight line. A few riders trotted out from the pack, wearing rust colored brigandines, their arms covered by loose tunics tied tightly at the elbow. Their leader had a helm with a spike and a flowing red mane.

"Tree Riders," Kamfongil uttered.

"I've come seeking Perenenda, daughter of Burul," their leader exclaimed. His voice was high, clear, and young.

"We are all as one," Perenenda called back. "If you seek me, you have found me, spears and all."

The leader dismounted and planted the end of his spear into the ground. He took several steps toward the front line, causing the Reapers to point their spears and swords at him. The leader removed his helm and kneeled.

"I am Xaykansam, Tree Rider for my lord Xaykandeth," he said, "and we have chased you through several territories for we feared you had left Neredun. We offer our swords, spears, and horses into your service."

He was a handsome young man with high cheekbones, curled locks and light grey eyes. Beneath his armor he wore a tunic with long sleeves and leather gloves. It was a bit comforting to find someone her age. The dust had settled behind him and the hundred horsemen dismounted and also kneeled.

"You are already in service to your Tree Lord," Perenenda said. "Why would I receive one who abandons his oath to his lord?"

"My oath is not to my great uncle Xaykandeth," he said. "My oath had always been to General Sarengerel. I was a Field Rider first for the king. When my great uncle had called his banners for me to return home, the general released me to deal with the Pyderi. When your grace captured the band of Pyderi in Helem, our forces were able to rout the remaining bandits in Xaykan. I am therefore released from my great uncle's Blood-Tree and seek nothing else than to rejoin with my general, if you will permit us."

"I am not my lord husband," Perenenda said. "If you swear your sword to me, your life will be for me to use as I see fit. I cannot promise you that you will rejoin with the general."

“Your grace,” Xaykansam put both hands on the ground and bowed, "I hold the general with the greatest reverence. Whether it is in his service or yours, I seek a greater purpose than to guard my great uncle’s lands from farming raids. I will follow you and your heart. Field God willing, I will make the field red for you."

"Serve me as you served the Song Lord and the field will be yours to paint red," she told him. "Rise, Xaykansam, and welcome to our company."

Dao's men put away their arms and the Butchers stood down. Kamfongil was displeased. "I don't trust anyone with full sleeves," he said, wiping moisture from his brow and turning his horse back to the farm.

Big Tim nodded to Perenenda. "You know what this means."

“We have a cavalry,” she said.