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shadows of the trees. Nothing was out there, yet he felt the eyes on him, more intensely than ever.
    Gustav was starting to become annoyed.
    â€œStop skulking about and show yourself!” he shouted irritably. “I know you are out there! Tell me why it is you have been watching me thus long and patiently. Tell me why it is you hoped that I would enter that tomb.”
    No takers.
    Gustav held up the knapsack. “If you are curious, I will show you what I found in there. Nothing of immense value, if that’s what you’re expecting. Pecwae baubles. Nothing more. Your time and mine have been wasted seemingly. Come, join me, and we will share a skin of wine together and laugh over what fools we were to think we might find treasure in a pecwae burial mound.”
    The grass whispered, but that was the wind. Tree branches creaked, but that, too, was the wind. There came no other sound.
    â€œThe Void take you, then,” Gustav yelled and, hoisting his knapsack on his shoulder, he set off for his campsite.
    Gustav faced a dilemma. He could either ride off with his treasure now, tired as he was, and risk being attacked on the road by the unseen watcher, or he could have a meal, rest and maybe even get some sleep. If he had brought along a companion, they could have split the watch, but he had not, and he did not regret it. His motto had long been: “He travels fastest who travels alone.” Gustav liked few people well enough to endure their company for months on the road and those he did like were too busy with their own pursuits to set off on an old man’s quest.
    He concluded he had better be fed and rested, rather than try to run away from danger when he was so tired he could barely put one foot in front of the other. Always fight on ground of your own choosing, if that is possible—an axiom of his former commander and mentor. If the unseen watcher was planning an attack by night, hoping to catch Gustav witless and befuddled, he would be in for a surprise.
    Trudging back to camp, Gustav kept close watch, but he saw nothing, nor did he really expect to. By now, he knew the watcher well enough to have a healthy respect for his woodcraft skills. Just as well he had no companion. Anyone with him would have decided by this point that the old man was barmy. No sign or sound or sniff of anyone out there and here was Gustav preparing to be attacked during the night.
    By the time he arrived back in camp, darkness had fallen. Gustav tossed the knapsack carelessly into his tent. Having checked his snares on the way back, he cut up and roasted a fine, plump rabbit over his campfire. He made much of his horse, to appease the animal for having been without company all day, made certain the horse was fed and had plenty of water. This done, he doused the fire. Leaving his horse flicking at flies with its tail, Gustav entered his tent.
    Once inside, Gustav removed two small silver bells from his bed roll. Keeping the clappers muffled, Gustav hung the bells on the tent supports, near the top.
    â€œAn old thieves’ trick, appropriate for an old thief,” Gustav said to himself with a smile. A touch, no matter how gentle, on the fabricof the tent would set the bells to ringing. He had carelessly left his cooking pots in front of the tent flap for the same purpose, hoped that he himself didn’t forget they were there and tumble over them when he had to make one of his trips to the bushes.
    Figuring that he had done all he could to make certain the watcher didn’t catch him unaware, Gustav wrapped himself in his blanket and, using the knapsack as a pillow, lay down on the ground. He kept his sword and a pile of dwarven sulfur sticks close to his hand.
    Gustav was not one to fret and worry or to lie awake, staring into the darkness, listening for the snap of a twig. Sleep was as essential to the warrior as sword or shield or armor. Gustav had trained himself to sleep and sleep well at will. He had