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They moved slowly through the woods. Kelling rode Mangle ahead to look for dangers, then back to the group, thinking that with the noise they made, the raiders were sure to find them, but at least they would scare away the bears.

One old woman fussed at him as she had trouble keeping her footing near the stream. "We have no business walking through these woods! Are you going to carry me when I fall and break something?" He helped her cross, and found a branch for her to use as a walking stick. For a moment, he thought she might hit him with it.

Later that afternoon, after he had helped Catta set up the tent, then left her in the charge of Annie Blackpot, Wallach met with the other soldiers. Retired soldiers, he reminded himself. The routines of soldiering were easy to fall back on, so they could direct the others how to arrange the camp, and set up tents. There were always camp followers, so even the women and the children were not totally foriegn to the situation. There were some things, missing, though. Soldiers, for one. Men who had been training, and knew the enemy's strengths and weaknesses. These men didn't even have weapons to go around, but had to trade off swords and bows to the men standing guard.

"What are we going to do?" one of the older men asked, "Hand them all firewood?"

Another laughed, "Here, Junior, here's your stick, now you're a soldier."

Kelling wasn't smiling, he had talked it over with a man name Brinton earlier in the day. He and Brinton had served in the same squad, then both as Century in the same Legion. Now Brinton spoke up, "Yeah. That's pretty much what we do. Even the women can swing a stick. If the raiders attack us, we're done for unless everyone stands up to 'em. All of us."

"We could all do with a little drilling," Kelling added. "Remind our muscles what they used to know without thinking."

A couple of the men nodded their aggreement, while a couple others shook their heads, picturing the youngsters, sticks in hand, charging the raiders. Finally one said, quietly, "It's just not right."

"What is right about having your farmstead burned, and your family killed?" Brinton said. "What is right about those younglings having to have lived through that? We give 'em something to do, something to focus on, or they go over the cliff"

"Might as well," the other replied. "Maybe it will keep me from the edge of the cliff, too."