Through the dawn fog, the wet red flag flutters. Ildo tightens his headband and hefts a scabbard that is far too large over his shoulder. He confidently takes a step forward, but as the tip of the scabbard bumps into the wagon, he hastily covers the sound with a cough.
He unfolds the escort list. In the space where a box number should be, it simply reads 'One companion'. His smiling face briefly turns serious, and small footsteps come to a halt in the main hall behind him.