Then, after all we encountered our first other travelers on day four.
A merchant caravan, heading the opposite direction. Five wagons and twenty people all looking nervous.
"You're going to Silvercrest?" their leader asked when he saw us. "For the tournament?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Turn back. Something's wrong there. City's locked down tight with military everywhere. They're searching everyone who enters."
"Searching for what?"
"Don't know. But two other tournament groups were turned away at the gates." The merchant leaned closer. "Rumor is, someone threatened the tournament organizers. Said they'd attack during the competition. Place is on edge."
After they left, we held a quick council.
"Trap," Lucille said flatly immediately.
"Probably," I agreed. "But we're still going. Tournament's our best chance to gain political clout recognition. Without it, the Baron's charges will stick."
"So we walk into the trap knowing it's a trap," Marcus said.
