Theo had been wound up and tense for days. Soon after the four had begun their trek through the endless fields that stretched south through Tria’s heartland, he had found himself on edge. He said even less than usual, to the point that Mother Brandy had begun trying to coax him into conversation. He simply smiled and nodded along with his companion’s chatter, all the while keeping his focus sharp on the fields through which they marched.

Something was watching them. Something was following them as they travelled. At first, Theo had thought it the idle staring of wildlife; perhaps he was feeling a hawk’s piercing gaze on his nape as it flew overhead. But no, the skies above were empty save for errant songbirds and far-off flocks that would rise, circle, and drop along the forest edge to the west.

More than once he’d spotted a large wild boar poking about in the stalks, but it disappeared into the maze of sheaf that surrounded him. He spotted it several times, and couldn’t shake the feeling that it was the same hog, but it never came close enough to be sure.

One afternoon, he came to an abrupt halt, his head snapping about, trick scythe out and at the ready. He’d taken to walking with it expanded into its full form rather than disassembled into blade and handle. His companions turned and tensed, following his gaze.

Slayter raised his shield. “Eh, what’s there?”

Theo held a finger to his mouth. His three companions fell into silence, slowly lowering the sacks they carried to the ground and drawing their weapons.

Theo stepped into the grain, letting himself slip between the stalks while disturbing them as little as he could manage. Behind him, he heard the paladin start to speak before Finde hissed him quiet.

A rustle in the stalks, a crunch underfoot off to his left. Theo threw himself sideways, his blade reaping through the grain in a wide arc. There was a frantic squeal, and Theo slashed again, now to the right. Another squeal and Theo dashed after it, chopping through the stalks as he went. Ten steps and he had cleared a zigzagging swathe behind him, but the hog had once again vanished.

There was a guffaw behind him. “You found a piggy, eh? That would’ve made a fine dinner, had you stuck it,” Slayter said.

Theo ignored him and continued scanning the field around him. The sense of being watched remained. The grain came up to his neck on this plain, and he debated cleaving through the entire field in order to ensure their solitude.

Finde came up behind him, hand on her dagger’s hilt. She’d learned to trust the stalker’s instincts, even if he did not or could not explain them.

“What is it, Theo?” Finde whispered.

“Something still watches.”

Finde looked back to Slayter and Brandy. She drew her dagger in a slow motion. The faithful pair exchanged a glance, then readied their weapons, turning back to back.

“Where is it?” Finde asked.

He squinted through the haphazard clusters and rows of barley. “Something moving along the ground,” Theo whispered in a carried voice. “Watch the stalks sway. Something has been following us.”

“It was there,” Brandy said, pointing her warhammer to a patch of tossed up turf. “Something was scurrying around.”

“The pig?” Slayter asked over his shoulder.

Brandy shook her head. “The hoofs are beside the impression in the stalks, not on top. Something was lying beside the boar.”

The paladin shrugged as he looked into the field. The barley grew more densely in some patches, sparse in others, but nonetheless the field appeared deep, endless, swaying in the wind like the roiling sea. There were lumps in the ground, spots where the barley grew taller for a few feet, but nothing more than would be caused by an especially thick dirt clod.

Lying still and shaking among the half-cut stalks, Poppy thanked her lucky stars to be wearing a cloak woven from the same crop that surrounded her. The scythe’s last slice had arced over her head, missing her by a hand’s breadth, and despite her proximity to her pursuer, her stillness kept her almost perfectly camouflaged amongst the field’s colouring.

Theo glanced back at Finde, who stood just outside the radius of his scythe’s swing should he need to strike suddenly. Her dagger was lying in her open palm, point directed toward the field. There was a muffled crackling somewhere in front of him, and Theo’s eyes snapped back to the field stretched out in front of him. He heard Finde muttering under her breath, then she grunted.

For a tense moment, none of the four moved. Each stood still and expectant of an unknown, unheard danger.

Finde gave a sigh. “Whatever it was, I do not see or feel it. I fear we would do ourselves greater harm standing in wait.”

The four relaxed and returned to the path where they had dropped their possessions. Theo walked in slow consideration, his eyes narrowed to slits still searching the landscape.

Brandy patted his shoulder. “It was good of you to spot it, whatever it was.”

Slayter gave Theo a hopeful grin. “Any chance it was a slower pig?”

He said nothing in reply, instead hoisting his sack and giving one final look to the patch of field he’d cut down. The four resumed their march, though now without their usual chatter, each keeping a vigilant watch.

From twice her usual distance, Poppy resumed her journey behind the four. Lawrence caught up with her, now even warrier than before. Theo’s first slash had caught the boar on the top of his back, drawing a thin line of blood. Poppy cleaned it as best she could, and the pair resumed their pursuit of the travellers heading south.