Rud likes this stream. The water is cold and has the same clean taste as the stream near his home. As Rud filled his canteens, he retrieved two small round pebbles from the stream bed. One was blue-green, while the other was dark, with a streak of almost transparent white mineral running through the center.

The colorful pebbles, worn smooth by the stream, were just the right size and shape to use as projectiles in his shepherd's sling. The colors reminded Rud of the paper sometimes used to wrap gifts. "My birthday presents," he said to himself, then slipped the pebbles into a small leather pouch kept handy on his belt.

Today is Rud's birthday, well, of sorts. When he was younger, his mother, father, and older sister would take him to town on his birthday, buy him a present and attend one of the town's spring events. They lived close to town then, and it was only a short wagon ride, not the two-day trek from where he lives now. With his family gone, his actual birth date no longer meant anything to Rud, and this annual trip into town was how he marked the passing years.

With the harness checked and freshly filled canteens safely stowed, Rud stepped on the side step and pulled himself up onto the driver's bench. A flip of the reins and the mule pulled the cart through the stream and back onto the trail. His old two-wheeled cart, heavily loaded with furs and trade goods, made slow but steady progress towards the town.

Rud is a backwoodsman. He lives in the wilderness and fed and clothed himself off the animals he hunted or trapped and the trade goods he made at his forge. Each spring, Rud made a trip into town for the supplies he would need in the coming year.

Rud chose this town for a reason. It was home to many cargo-carrying keelboats that carried goods and supplies to the ports along the river. As a commercial trading port, the supplies he needed were readily available.

There was also a ready market for his furs and trade goods. The merchants were always looking for quality goods they could buy then sell at a premium in the cities further up the river.

The town also meant a certain level of anonymity. The tavern-keepers nearer Rud's home would only pay Rud a small portion of what he could sell his furs for in the town, and the tavern patrons, as Rud knew all too well, would just as soon rob and kill you as tip their hat. He was just another stinking woodsman in the town, whom the townspeople would very much like to see leave as soon as possible.

Rud would sell his items outright or trade for what he needed. But, as his mother had taught him, Rud made a point to save some of the money he made for when times were hard. In a way, it kept his mother's memory alive and made him negotiate a little stronger, knowing he had to save a little over what he spent.

If everything went well, he would be there in time to do his business and be on his way home before stopping for the night. There was a shorter route than the trail he was on, but the past and too much pain lay down that road.

* * * * *

Once in town, it took about an hour for Rud to sell all but a few of his furs, and he had done very well. The larger bear and elk hides were not selling, but the buyers wanted and were willing to pay more than ever for all of his small game furs. Rud quickly sold all of the blades and useful metal products he had made at his blacksmith's forge.

Rud avoided any conversation beyond what was required to do business, including telling anyone his name. A few buyers recognized Rud having bought from him before, but they knew him only as "the woodsman."

His trading complete and his supplies for the next year secured, Rud thought about what else he might need. He needed a new coat as his heavy wool coat had more of his repair stitches than original stitches, and the cotton patches cut from an old vest didn't keep in the warmth.

Rud knew the best place to buy heavy wool coats was in the shops near the river, so he drove his cart into the town and toward the docks. He stopped at a store across from where the boats loaded and unloaded their cargo. He quickly found a new heavy wool coat, which was the same style as the boatmen wore.

A smiling young woman who seemed not to mind his appearance, most likely the shopkeeper's daughter, convinced Rud to buy a fancy new cotton vest. Rud knew the woman was a good salesman when she said he looked handsome in the vest, but he had given in and bought it anyway.

She also convinced Rud to buy a large bag of assorted vegetable seeds. Rud was no farmer and typically not given to impulse purchases, but the seeds were cheap, and he very much liked the way the young woman, who appeared a year or two younger than he was, had greeted him and treated him like any other patron. After all, maybe he could use some variety in his diet.

Accustomed to being alone, the attention of the young woman was very welcome to this solitary man. He had not realized how good the attention would make him feel. Rud stepped outside with the new coat and vest tucked under his arm. The bag of seeds was in his hand. It had been a good day, and for a moment, Rud allowed himself to smile. He rarely had reason to smile.

Rud's smile disappeared as rough men emerged from the warehouse across the street. Some of the men looked directly at Rud but had no interest in the woodsman. Rud recognized the look in their eyes. Trouble was coming, and trouble was something Rud knew all too well. Rud heard the sound of wagons swiftly approaching and turned in their direction.

Rud didn't know it, but he was destined to be here. Right here and right now.