Everything was in place. After going through a few more names for his horse while he searched and rechecked all of his supplies, he was positive he had enough for two, maybe three people on a short trip. A days travel to the bandit camp and then a day returning, he had more than enough food and plenty of water. One of his teachers warned him not to pack too much to carry, but Leifr was confident in his strength and more confident in his warhorse's. This much should be no problem. Tapping his noble garments and ensuring that his chainmail was not loose underneath, he adjusted the shield on his back and squeezed the handle of his sword that hanged at his side. The familiar but nonetheless uncomfortable aura emerged from the thirsty blade. Quickly releasing his grasp on it and shaking his hand as if some residue were on it he then checked the other side of his waist for his side-arm. A quick shake of the sheathed short sword ensured that his belt and scabbard were securely on his person. He was content with his current load out. All that was left was to check on Lyrisa and see if she was buying the correct supplies.
Leading his warhorse he started heading in a random direction down a street... but immediately stopped when he spotted Lyrisa just in eyesight of the barracks, peacefully reading. She obviously went straight to reading after Leifr left her. Leifr rubbed his forehead in irritation, wondering what that girl was thinking before brushing his hand through his hair and taking a deep breath to calm himself. It's fine, he thought, I have enough food and water for her as well. With a tug on the reigns he headed towards Lyrisa.
“Milady, I had thought you would be out gathering supplies right now. You would have plenty of time to read when we head for the bandit camp.”
...Speaking of the bandit camp, Lyrisa was just a girl wasn't she? Even if she had done it before, Leifr simply couldn't bring a child into such danger. Maybe it was her culture, and she was actually a battle-hardened warrior. That frightened Leifr even more: even if such myths about child-warriors from the north were common it surely couldn't be true in Gallestre. Leifr started thinking about how to dissuade her from this line of work.
“Milady, if I may speak my mind,” he started, crouched on one knee so he was at a similar eye level with her and cleared his throat. “Where we are headed is likely to be a dangerous place where we may lose our lives. I would gladly give my life to protect you, milady, but I am afraid for you should it not be enough. Surely if you, Lady Kortine, were to die there would be people who would grieve bitterly over the loss of such a noble woman. Is there a reason you have that you would abandon friend and family to perform jobs such as this?”
