The willow tree provided scant shade, but it was enough for Emmeline to get out of the sun, and to provide some relief from the warmth of the day. She continued to watch the mounted guards warily. It still didn’t make sense to her, if the caravan was already guarded then why in Light’s cadence did they need two sellswords as well? She also continued to scan the road for her companion, but they must be coming from the other direction. 

Continuing to watch the caravan in front of her, the more it seemed odd. They were only 2 days out from Viscerium, why stop and wait for two merc’s on foot? She tried to put it from her mind, she wasn’t paid to think why, but to follow orders and get the job done. Even so. She’d just started to list out all the heraldry she could think of with sunbursts, which shouldn’t be as long of a list as it was but between church officials and royals both official and not so official it was longer than she’d like for how dusty her memory felt recalling the lessons. Thelana would be disappointed. She may have kept up with physical training, but “a Knights mind is just as important of a weapon as her  blade and should be kept as sharp.” She recited the old lesson under her breath, just as she spied movement in the ranks. 

One of the mounted guards started moving towards the covered caravan, disappearing inside and she got the first glance of her travelling companion. He looked to be a similar age to her, perhaps slightly older, and walked like a man used to the road and the sword at his hip. His hair was bound back in a warriors queue, and his chestnut skin was going to fair a lot better on the journey than her fairness. Noting his worn clothing and warrior stance she quickly categorized him as being either having been a mercenary for some time (although clearly not a good one, her thoughts added measly as he came closer and she noted his worn clothes) or an ex guard come to try and earn better paying work.

Not that the ex-Knight could talk, she mocked herself. She felt particularly shabby herself next to the mounted personal guard, and especially after being hard on the road the last couple of days. She fought the urge to smooth back her braid as he approached her shady patch, resting her hand lightly on the hilt of her sword. The jerks in her squadron of squires had decided to start up with calling her the Maiden Knight due to being both A) female, B) compassionate, and C) stopping to appreciate a flower stall one time. The title had stung, until a newly appointed Knight who was helping Thelena with her mentoring duties helped her to own the title, and had the sword made as a gift for her knighting ceremony as a reminder. Being a gift made it her own blade, and thus she was able to keep it when she quit her Order, and it had become her most priced possession – and on her darkest days her most hated reminder. 

Speaking of blades, the one at the hip of the gentleman coming towards her was exceptional. It definitely wasn’t the blade of a mercenary or Guard. He had just become quite the enigma. The fellow stopped just shy of her, calling a greeting. Taking a strode or two closer she smiled at him. “Better than rain, aye. Wouldn’t mind a breeze though.” She countered, keeping her tone friendly and light. “Bet camp set up is going to be a nightmare though,” she continued nodding her head at the caravan, indicating the rich (and probably pompous) patron they were to guard. From her experience they are never happy with sleeping on the road, and are very good at demanding things for their comfort but never willing to actually help make it happen.