7
“If you don’t mind a simple detour,” Sage mused as he hitched up his pants, “-we’re in need of some more appropriate attire.”
“I’d prefer it. We don’t want to catch the attention of Gargan’s men,” Caius pointed out.
Sage turned to the north and squinted into the distance. “If I recall, there was once a village along this route where a fine seamstress once lived.”
Caius shrugged. “Perhaps. I’m not from this area myself.”
“Where do you hail from, my friend?”
Caius smiled. “From further south. And yourself?”
I rolled my eyes. Even my amateur eyes could see the two were trying to pump one another for information.
Sage gestured down at himself. “We come from a very different land.”
“That’s certainly true, and I don’t think I’ve caught your name,” Caius noted.
Sage bowed his
