Betrayal. It was like a bitter taste in his mouth making his tongue as dry as tough leather. Will tossed back and forth in his sleeping bag unable to make himself comfortable. It wasn't the rough sleeping that concerned, him he was used to it-though he would have appreciated if the pebble sticking into his hip would move-what bothered him was the shocking truth that Crowley had revealed.

As hard as he tried he couldn't believe that Erak would allow his subjects to raid Araluen after everything they had been through. Many people had witnessed the Scandian wolfships attack though. As much as he might like to he couldn't ignore the basic facts.

The treaty that Princess Cassandra signed with Erak didn't actually forbid the Scandians from doing small raid along the Araluen coastline as long as they didn't involve themselves in a full-scale war with the kingdom.

Scandia was asking for trouble by killing so many innocent civilians. From what Crowley had relayed to them was that the Scandians were attacking more brutally than ever. Scandians had never been hesitant to use their axes but this was pure slaughter. Anyone who didn't flee immediately when the wolfships moored was killed even if they were blindingly obedient.

So far no one had actually seen the Scandians fighting but when they returned to their villages everyone who had remained was dead. Currently they were only attacking small towns but their confidence in victory appeared to be growing. The raiding had only been occurring for the last ten days and already eight villages had been ransacked.

When Crowley first told Will this information his mind had gone into a frenzy trying to process everything. Eight raids in only ten days! That would mean there were around four ships in the area because no crew needed more than two towns worth of supplies in the space of ten days. Even though Scandians were known for their love of hoarding he could see no point in attacking more towns than necessary since the ships cargo holds could only fit so much.

Will closed his eyes and tried to make his mind go blank so he could get some rest for the journey tomorrow. This was going to be a long night.

The sun had just risen in the East when Halt, Horace and Crowley arose to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Each face looked grumpy and sleep-deprived but the coffee stirred something inside them like an animal instinct drawing them to the newly stoked fire.

They had all barely slept a wink last night but no one wanted to be the first to brooch the depressing topic of the Scandian's. So they all took their coffee from Will slapping him on the back with silent gratitude. Arranging themselves as comfortably as possible they sat sipping their coffee.

When each cup had been drained and refilled al least once they set down their mugs each waiting for another to speak. Yet again it was Horace who dared to voice his opinion.

"Well I'm ready for breakfast!" stated Horace, his usual energetic attitude returning. "Who wants bacon?" grinning at their friends constant hunger they all agreed they could do with some food for thought.

While Horace diligently prepared the food Halt decided the time for contemplating was over.

Halt begun "Now I know that it's hard to think that Erak has betrayed us but we have to look at the bigger picture here. There are other things to consider; the one hundred archers in Scandia may be in danger, which area is likely to be hit next and how can we stop them."

Crowley backed him up "Your right Halt I think what it all comes down to is how much we can still trust Erak, as the Oberjarl he has responsibility to his people maybe they were desperate. It is quite possible that Erak doesn't even know what's happening the raiders could simply be going against his wishes hoping that he doesn't realise."

Horace ever the warrior was next to speak, "There's no point hanging around here like a wet wig thinking of everything that could go wrong I'm for going to meet the threat."

"A wet wig?" Halt spluttered trying not to burst out laughing. "I think you mean a wet week Horace."

"Oh well…You know what I mean!"

Will smiled thinly trying to hide his concern; he hadn't even considered the archers. If they were harmed it would be his fault, in fact if anything went wrong with this treaty he would be to blame. Instead of his name, Will Treaty, being a medal of honour it would be shameful.

After breakfast that morning they had said their goodbyes to Crowley saying they would keep him informed through messenger birds that he had set up. Crowley had alerted them that the villagers near Caraway fief could be quite hostile to newcomers. He wished he could join them but he had other duties to attend to at Castle Araluen. Before leaving he hugged them all, he surprised himself how sad he felt at seeing them go after all it was something he lived with everyday but maybe that's why it hurt so much.

Kicker, Abelard and Tug trotted at a steady gait towards the direction of Caraway fief. Abelard and Tug could have gone faster but Halt and Will held them steady knowing that after awhile Kicker wouldn't be able to keep up if they let went much faster.

No one bothered talking over the sound of the horses hooves hammering over the ground, even if they could have talked what was there to say. When it all came down to it Horace was right, there was nothing they could do until they got there.

A massive thanks to everyone who has read and commented so far I love getting feedback about my stories. Hope you continue to enjoy them! I may take a little while to update so thanks for your patience.