The road had been long and treacherous, the damp air clinging to Brienne’s armor as she led the way through the thick forest. Their pace had slowed with the worsening terrain, and Ser Cleos Frey shifted uneasily in his saddle behind her. He was nervous, always glancing over his shoulder, as if expecting pursuers to appear from the trees.

"We should find an inn for the night," Cleos muttered, his voice tight with weariness.

Brienne did not look back. "No inns. We stay off the roads." She knew better than to trust the safety of walls and strangers. The less they were seen, the better.

Cleos sighed but said nothing more. The Lannister knight they escorted was silent for once, his golden head drooping as he swayed in his saddle. Ser Jaime had spent most of the day taunting her, but exhaustion had finally dulled his sharp tongue.

Brienne adjusted her grip on her sword hilt, scanning the darkening woods ahead. The night would be upon them soon, and with it, dangers unseen.