Holding his arm close to his body helped to keep both the arm and the ribs in place. Rezkin limped as he searched for a few strong, straight sticks. He had to use his damaged arm to strap the sticks around his leg. Finally, he traversed the track of his fall covering up any evidence of his passing. It was dark, but the pain helped the warrior to focus. He had endured much pain in his life, and it was often used as an instructional method in maintaining focus and resisting torture.

The warrior slowly made his way back through the woods until he found the assassin he had left behind. The man was gagged and tied, but he did not appear to have regained consciousness in Rezkin’s absence. Rezkin removed the man’s clothes and redressed him before lugging the assassin to the bank of the river, not an easy feat with a broken leg and injured shoulder and ribs. He dumped the man in a shallow pool, making sure his head and shoulders were above water. Hopefully, the water would erase any evidence that Rezkin had donned the man’s clothes or that they had been removed at all.

The young warrior travelled a good distance upstream before attempting to cross the river. No bridge spanned the massive Tremadel for it was too vast and deep, and the way needed be clear for ships. If one wanted to cross, he had to purchase passage on a ferry or other vessel. Rezkin had ridden the ferry across with a group of day workers returning to their camp on the other side of the river, but it was much later now, and any crossing would be notable. Due to the swift current, it was impossible to swim the monstrous river. Rezkin did so anyway. Any boat passage would eventually be tracked by the assassins, and Rezkin wanted to appear as a wraith, untraceable, unstoppable. Rezkin swam the Tremadel in full gear with numerous injuries and still managed to reach the other shore not far from where he had left Pride.

The mounted warrior circled the city to approach the Eastern Gate, which was still closed. He slept for a few hours amongst some brush as he waited. An hour before dawn, the guards opened the gate to grant entry to the numerous merchants, farmers and traders who were lined up outside the gate with their carts and wagons. The warrior steered Pride between two of the larger wagons and huddled beneath a worn brown cloak. The guards were tired and paid little attention as they passed around steaming cups of coffee. Rezkin was already a bit feverish, and he knew he would have to appear whole and hale when he implemented his plan later that day. He needed a healer.