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‘What time do you want to be off?’ Bror asked, turning back from the door.
‘Before First Light, I think,’ answered Skald, his brow wrinkling with calculations. ‘It’ll take us two and a half days to reach the East Gate . . . and that’s without stopping to pick up a few extra strong arms with axes to take along. And they’ll need to gather their gear and make their goodbyes . . . so, I’d say it will add at least another day to our travels.’ He drank his ale down and turned the cup upside down on the table.
‘What do you say, little brother? Think the younger Stonecut brothers can get done what needs to be done and meet the old folk at the East Gate chamber by then?’ He grinned at Riv and Orin, ducking as he finished his statement. Riv’s hand was on his empty cup and Skald knew his brother had a quick arm when it came to chucking stones . . . an all too accurate arm, as he recalled from games of ‘Capture the Ledge’ they’d played as children.
He grinned again at Riv and waved a white dishtowel left on the table in surrender. In a more serious vein he straightened up, saying, ‘Shall I tell the others you’ll bring food for them, too, Riv? It’ll cut considerable time off their getting ready to go along?’
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