Less than a quarter of an hour later, the company of Crownseekers departed from Camp Bracken. Every man was mounted on horseback. They thundered along the road, heading northward, throwing up huge, swirling cyclones of dust in the wake of their passage.
Oliver rode with the rest of the recruits, near the middle of the formation. His whole body was thrumming with excitement, which grew with every beat of his horse’s hooves against the ground.
He glanced beside him. Aldric and Kelley were riding only a few feet away, one on either side. They were both bent nearly double over the necks of their horses, their bodies as tight as coiled springs. Behind the both of them, their Crownseeker cloaks snapped in the breeze, flowing and reforming like river foam.
Kelley, catching Oliver’s eye, grinned at him and pumped his fist in the air. Oliver smiled back, then turned his attention back to the road in front of him. Once again, he found himself struck with wonder.