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 ladstone and Arana walked ahead of the group as they made their way northwest, toward Fire Mountain. The two warriors were grim-faced and talking about Mobius.
“I knew that thief could not be trusted,” Arana said. “Do you think he has gone to the enemy, or simply fled like the coward he is?”
“I dinnae know,” replied Gladstone, “but ‘tis a grim thought, that ‘ee would go ahead t’ warn whomever it is we seek. I dinnae travel with ‘im long.”
“I traveled with him for a while. M’Ladyhawke found him in Britain some time ago. She trusted him.”
“Oh?”
Arana told Gladstone the story of how M’Ladyhawke brought Mobius into the fold. “I don’t blame her for our misfortune, but I do wish she had never met him,” he concluded.
“Aye.” Gladstone seemed thoughtful. “I never spoke with ‘im much… I must say, there was nae clue, an’ ‘ee seemed trustworthy enough, as far as ye ken trust a thief, that is.”
Peacefrog pushed his horse to the fore and joined the two warriors. “Speaking of thieves?” he asked.
Arana nodded. “Mobius. Froggy, did you ever hear him speak of working for someone, or did he ever speak to you about his past?”
Peacefrog shook his head. “No. I never asked him, and he never volunteered any information. It is part of the Thieves’ Code not to pry. Although now I wish I had! Who knows what we go to face?”
The day wore on, and the mountain entered their view, dark and ominous. Clouds shrouded its summit so that it was nearly impossible to tell its height. They decided to make camp for the night, far from its scraggy foot, where it was hoped that they would not be discovered by whatever lay beneath the purple rock.
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