“This part if the journey is never easy,” Trenour said.
“Then why do we come this way? The plateau path is a lot more pleasant than this constant up and down road through the hills,” Wylder challenged.
“The plateau leaves us exposed. I would far rather deal with hills than the nomads.”
“Are you telling me that you have dragged us to the back of beyond because you are afraid of a bunch of goat herders?” Wylder mocked.
“Bunch of ‘goat herders?’ They are a bunch of goat herders that overran the Hurnian Empire. We don’t want to mess with them, especially of open ground.”
“But we have good armour and the best weapons money can buy,” Wylder observed. “Surely we would have the upper hand.”
“Let’s not find out,” Trenour said gravely.
After about a half an hour, the pair crested a long rise to come face to face with about a thousand goats. Scattered among the herd were about seventy nomads armed with staves and spears. Three others approached on sturdy donkeys and began to nock short composite bows.
“What do you think of our ‘goat herders now?’” Trenour asked, dropping his sword and raising his hands.
“Goat herders? What goat herders, I only see fierce nomads,” Wylder gulped.