The expedition had been ongoing for a week solid now and that was with both the caravans’ runes hastening the journey and Leirhofn being on the silver kingdoms border. Erika had been, not enjoying it but finding the journey restful, but that was across the Empty Plains. The expedition had passed through them over the trackless grass and into the thick choking greenery of the Wold. There were hundreds of Wolds in the realms, Ebonwold, Ashwold, Oldwold, Bloodwold, all of them had one thing in common… they were young, younger at least than THE Wold. The first primordial forest, one of the only living survivors of Ragnarök. These trees had seen Aesir and Vanir both fight, love and die, their every creek and groan was like a language eons in the making and the vastness of their canopy seemed like the night sky itself.

They weren’t like Yggdrasil at all, everyone could see the world tree from everywhere in every realm so Erika had long grown accustom to it, it had a yellow brown trunk which was shear apart from the nine branches that held the nine realms and a dense green cap at its very top. The trees of the Wold were the exact opposite fir trees each easily taller than ten men stood on each other’s shoulders and so dark green they were nearly black, so think with leaves and branches you could only see their gnarled black trunks at their base, they huddled together like a murder of crows and seemed just as forbidding.

Erika had been taken off her practise droog for now and she had the distinct feeling that the fun was over, the delvers didn’t sing or joke anymore there was no banter or arguing, instead they were… well not tense, but aware, sat silently with hands held loosely near weapons, the caravan had moved closer together droogs plodding stolidly along the Burning Road.

Once there had been plans to run the tracks of the Bal-Vagn along here, to cut a path through the Wald, well the Wald had swallowed that plan, all it left was a single wide trade route cut into the edge of the great forest, torches and runes set along the edges of the grey granite slabs coughed out great gouts of embers every hour on the hour keeping the Wald back with a wall of fire and ash.

When they stopped that night there wasn't any singing or dancing or a roaring fire, instead they huddled in a press of wagons laid carefully along the dead centre of the road, a good arm’s length from the spitting sparks. Despite this serious air the expeditions gaming tournament continued, people huddled in small groups near their caravans playing quietly, distracting themselves from the dark.

“Through the fourth Realmgate.” Said Helga smugly slamming the bead down again.

Under truenight the few still awake had gathered around the Wagon Rush board, despite the dampening of the darkness there were still a few cheers of victory or moans of defeat. Despite the week-long tournament nobody was bored of it, whether they actually enjoyed the game or the just the distraction Erika didn’t know.

“You taught this one too well Sigrun.” Alvis said smiling broadly, he’d turned out to be an excellent player over the last week and mellowed out considerably when he had cards or dice in hand.

“Taught, taught?!” bellowed Sigrun slapping Helga on the back. “I wish I was that good! No, she learned all that herself, I'm pretty sure I still owe her…”

“Your firstborn and soul.” Said Helga smugly.

As the others laughed Sigrun winked. “Luckily I doubt me or Astrid will need to worry about the first one, as for my soul… better you than Hel.”

“Speaking of Hel its Niflhel up next after the wagons pass the mists yes?” Said Tathra, apparently gambling being one of the few things he could be sensible for.

“Ah right…” Slowly everyone turned to Erika who grinned wickedly.

“Place your tokens,” she said with a smirk. “Let’s see how you weigh up.”

As weights were measured and discarded Erika found herself relaxed and happy, the moon spun gently through the sky dipping behind Yggdrasil’s branches but the Burning Road was bright at night, the breeze was cool and scented with supper and the company excellent. Erika had been taken out early and forced to play the roll of Hel in the game, a non-player adjudicator and moving hazard and Erika had found she actually had a talent for it.

“Be careful there Helga,” said Erika her tone heavy with mockery. “A few more steps till the Gap may claim you.”

Helga flashed Erika a cocky grin that brought a little colour to the vitki’s cheeks then she slammed down a row of copper tokens.

The scales were lifted up, the cards placed, breath held… and…

They tipped.

The group cheered, groaned and sighed all at once.

“I thought you said you didn’t play?” Helga called over the din, Erika just shrugged back at her. “I’ve played before but I don’t do it often I said, I'm usually stuck being one of the player companies, I rarely get to play one of the gods, lots of people said not to?”

“Worst role.” Said Sigrun with feeling, tipping her tokens back into the main bag. “Heimdall sucks to play as.”

“Well Erika took out the last caravan so she won the hand and to the victor go the spoils.” Alvis scooped the chunks of hacksilver and carefully weighing them. “Looks like 3… 7… 9… about talent’s worth, one me to just give you that or…?”

“Please.” Said Erika and Alvis still smiling warmly handed her over large smooth disk of sivler from one of his pouches, in the light of sparks it shone like a second moon.

Erika looked at it for a long moment then put it into her empty money pouch, for some reason the tiny weight felt very… comforting. Maybe it was because she was finally back on track, soon she’d pay back her mother, get on with her training, become a great vitki and never leave the city again.

“You up for another round Erika?” Asked Helga stirring the games tokens around in their leather pouch.

Erika tried not to grin. “Why not?”