The night air over the northern foothills was bitterly cold, carrying the sharp scent of pine resin and coming snow.
Two leagues ahead, the massive black stone walls of Galka War Academy rose against the starry horizon, their high watchtowers lit with glowing yellow lanterns.
The southern caravan had halted for a brief midnight rest in an open stone quarry, giving the tired draft beasts water before the final ascent to the gates.
Near the central fire, Kaka sat on an overturned wooden crate, furiously sharpening his battleaxe with a coarse whetstone that threw bright sparks into the dark.
"If the gate guards make us wait for inspection like common merchants, I am going to chop the iron bar in half," Kaka growled, his northern jaw set in a stubborn clench.
