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difficult.
    Finally, after an hour and a half of walking, they entered through the town’s main gate. The town was surrounded by a sturdy wall of tall thick logs lashed together and stuck four feet into the ground. The stout gate was built of oak and bound together with bands of black iron. It was open during the day but at night it was shut to keep out the wild animals, and any roaming monsters or boargs. It was rare, but on occasion a hunter would return with stories of mountain ogres, hill giants, and other wild creatures.
    Normally, at this time in the morning, the town would just be awakening, but today, the town was already a bustle of activity. The rich smells of Gorum’s fresh baked bread and freshly lit hearths wafted down the street as Jonas and Lorna made their way across town. Lorna reached over and held Jonas close to her as the townspeople hurried towards the grange, where they often had town meetings. Several children that Jonas recognized stood by the butcher’s shop staring wide eyed at the people moving toward the grange. The feeling in the air was tense; something was wrong.
    The butcher’s son, Wil, stood against the wall with his two friends, Fil, and Fil’s younger brother, Colsen. Jonas stood behind his mother, not wanting the boys to see him and pepper him with their endless barrage of insults.
    “What is happening, Wil?” asked his mother.
    Wil looked at her with malice. “My father said not to speak with you…that it would bring us bad luck”.  
    “Your father is ignorant and a drunk, now tell me what is happening,” Lorna demanded.
    Wil was just about to retort when Fil interrupted him. “A cavalier came into town last night and he has called a meeting this morning. He said it was urgent…that the town is in danger,” Fil said, barely able to hide his excitement, and fear.
    Jonas had always liked Fil more than the rest, and after the previous day’s occurrence his respect for him grew. When the kids would yell at him he always noticed that Fil didn’t participate, that he just stared at Jonas with pity, the same look that Fil gave Jonas the day before as they left Jonas sprawled out on the frozen ground.
    Jonas leaned out from behind his mother.   “Was he tall, with long black hair and did he go by the name of Airos?” Jonas asked.
    “He did. How did you know that, Jonas?” Fil asked.
    Jonas smiled. “I met him yesterday. He gave me a gold coin.”
    His mother squeezed his arm gently. “That’s enough Jonas. Let’s see what this cavalier has to say.”
    His mother gently helped Jonas walk down the street toward the grange. The grange was a great vaulted structure built with strong trees each as big around as a man’s waist. It was a large, simple building, big enough to sit at least a hundred people. There was a wooden stage facing rows of benches flanked by two great stone fireplaces with chimneys that rose to the ceiling twenty paces from the floor. Lorna and Jonas entered through the large double doors. The fires were blazing, casting an orange glow flickering across the room.
    Airos stood on the stage addressing the confused and frightened townspeople. He was splendid in his shining armor and he had replaced his wool traveling cloak with a long green flowing cape. The cape was made from a light material that seemed to flutter around him as he moved.
    Jonas wondered again how he kept so clean, but his thought was cut short as a rough hand reached out and grabbed Lorna by the arm. It was the butcher, Marsk.
    “You are not wanted here. Get out and take your cripple with you,” the heavy set butcher whispered.
    There were a few other people near them that joined in, whispering in fear for them to leave, and glancing at them with frowns.
    Lorna held her ground, looking directly into the fat man’s eyes. “I have as much right to be here as you do. I am a member of this town whether…..”
    Lorna was cut off as Marsk grabbed her arm tightly pulling her roughly towards