The new wooden cabin was far better than the crude shelter Adrian had lived in before.
Although the rocky cliff face still served as the northern wall, the other three sides were supported by timber pillars joined to crossbeams with mortise-and-tenon joints, and every gap had been sealed with clay mixed with chopped grass.
The northern wind struck the cliff and swept around it, unable to enter the cabin directly.
Rain could no longer seep through either, for the roof had been covered with two overlapping layers of bark that guided the water down and away from the walls.
Inside, the packed-clay floor had been raised by nearly a handspan.
Rainwater flowed past the threshold instead of pooling beneath his bedding, keeping the interior dry.
The cabin was spacious enough for three or four people to sleep inside.
From the cliff wall to the doorway, there was room for a man to lie flat with space left over, and two people could easily sleep side by side.
Adrian moved his possessions from the old shelter one by one.
He took the smoked meat from its rack and hung it above the stove, where the warmth and smoke would continue to preserve it.
The hides were stacked at the base of the cliff wall, with the roe deer vest and boar-hide armor placed together.
The unfinished bow stave rested in the coolest corner, while the completed bowstring hung nearby.
He leaned the pickaxe, short axe, and arming sword beside the doorway, where he could reach them quickly.
The pottery jars, leather pouches, bone needles, linen thread, and other small items were arranged neatly on the opposite side of the stove.
Once everything had been moved, Adrian crouched outside and sealed the final gap beneath the threshold with clay.
The cabin was nearly full.
He sat with his back against the stone wall.
The rock remained cold, but there were no drafts, and the charcoal burning in the stove kept the room warm and dry.
A roe deer hide hung across the doorway as a curtain.
Damp air from the river occasionally slipped beneath it, but the heat from the stove softened its chill before it reached him.
After resting for a while, he stood and lifted one corner of the curtain to look outside.
A fence surrounded the cabin, and the vines woven through it provided excellent camouflage.
The ridge to the north blocked the wind, while the forest to the south was so dense that walking through it was difficult.
From a distance, there appeared to be nothing beneath the ridge.
Adrian turned back inside and moved the bow stave to a better position.
It had previously rested against the shaded cliff wall, protected from sunlight but still exposed to considerable moisture.
He placed it diagonally behind the stove, far enough away that the heat would not scorch it but close enough to keep it warm and dry.
The moisture within the wood was gradually distributing more evenly, and its pale yellow color had begun to deepen.
There were no cracks at the ends, nor had the middle begun to warp.
Judging by its condition, the stave was nearly ready.
Another month of drying should make it suitable for shaping.
He was not attempting to produce a proper English longbow.
Such weapons stood nearly as tall as a man, were usually made from yew, and could require more than a hundred pounds of force to draw.
Their arrows could penetrate chainmail, but they were weapons made for the battlefield.
The ash stave he had prepared measured only about five feet.
Once finished, it would probably have a draw weight of forty pounds, or perhaps fifty at most.
That would be enough for hunting.
As long as it could drive an arrow into the flank of a deer from thirty paces away, it would serve its purpose.
The bowstring had already been completed.
It was coiled beside the stove, twisted from animal sinew and tightly bound with linen thread.
He had also selected several straight hazel branches from the forest for arrow shafts.
Seven or eight of them had already been carved and were now drying in the shade behind the doorway.
Once the bow was finished, he would only need to attach the arrowheads and add feathers to the shafts.
Then he would finally possess a complete hunting weapon.
His shoulder had also nearly healed.
Each morning, Adrian tested it by rotating his left arm behind his back and bringing it forward again.
The movement no longer caused a pulling pain within the joint.
He had removed the cloth bandage long ago.
A hard pink scar now covered the wound, but it no longer hurt when pressed, and the surrounding bruising had completely disappeared.
It was time to make a longer journey.
Crouching near the doorway, he took inventory of the supplies he had accumulated.
He packed several strings of smoked meat, keeping the roe deer and boar meat separate, and hid the remaining strips high above the ground where animals could not easily reach them.
There were also several pieces of unused hide.
The roe deer skin was soft, while the boar hide was thick, so he stacked them together and tied them tightly with hemp rope.
The tusks, coarse bristles, and other materials were gathered into a separate bundle.
He wrapped them in linen cloth, secured them with more rope, and prepared to carry them over his shoulder.
No matter how much smoked meat he possessed, he could not survive on it alone forever.
During his time in the forest, he had alternated between smoked meat, grilled fish, and porridge made from wild vegetables.
He had never truly gone hungry, but eating meat every day was not sustainable.
The problem was not whether his body could endure it.
The quantities simply did not add up.
He needed staple food—rye, oats, or any other grain that could be ground into flour and boiled into porridge.
Mixed with wild vegetables, scraps of dried meat, and salt, a single large pot could feed several people.
Adrian could manage while living alone.
However, if he intended to take in others later, he could not afford to give them meat at every meal.
He gathered all his weapons before leaving.
The arming sword hung from his waist, the short axe was tucked behind his back, and the pickaxe rested across his shoulder.
He extinguished the fire in the stove and spread the cold ashes flat.
Then he blocked the cabin entrance with vines and covered the gap in the fence with branches.
The barrier would not stop a determined person.
It was merely intended to prevent wild boars from forcing their way inside and rooting through his supplies.
Adrian stood outside the doorway and surveyed the camp one last time.
After confirming that he had forgotten nothing, he turned and began following the river downstream.
According to Blazer, the nearest market town lay a day and a half south of Blackthorn Village.
Adrian would have to follow the river until it left the mountain hollow, then turn south and cross two ridges.
The entire round trip would take three or four days.
Morning mist drifted across the river, cool and damp against his face.
He maintained a steady pace rather than hurrying, for the bundle over his shoulder was heavy even though his recovered left arm could now bear the weight.
After walking for some time, he stopped and looked back.
The cabin crouched beneath the rocky ridge, surrounded by its low fence.
The hide curtain hung motionless across the doorway.
From a distance, the structure resembled a dark stone that had rolled down the hillside.
It blended so naturally into the terrain that anyone unfamiliar with the area might pass without noticing it.
Adrian turned away and continued downstream.
By the time he reached the bend in the river, the cabin had disappeared from sight.
He left the riverbank where the water wound out of the mountain hollow.
Rolling slopes stretched southward, with patches of forest divided by broad areas of wild grassland.
There was no proper road, only narrow animal trails twisting between the hills.
When Adrian reached the top of the first ridge, the sun had already begun to lean westward.
He rested briefly, ate half a strip of smoked meat, and washed it down with several mouthfuls of water.
Darkness was approaching by the time he crossed the second ridge.
At its base, he found an old oak tree with thick, exposed roots and settled between them for the night.
The following morning, he continued south.
The terrain gradually became gentler, and the forest thinned.
Around noon, he finally came upon a dirt road.
Its surface had been pressed hard by years of traffic.
Deep cart ruts crossed layers of ox tracks, horseshoe marks, and bare human footprints, all baked solid beneath the sun.
Adrian followed the road westward.
Less than an hour later, old tree stumps began appearing among the woods beside the road.
Their weathered cuts showed that the surrounding land had been cleared long ago.
Farther ahead, the road divided at a fork.
A small wooden house with a thatched roof stood at the end of one branch, its door closed and a stack of hay piled behind it.
The farther he walked, the fewer trees remained on either side.
More land had been cleared for farming.
Some fields still held the dry stubble of the previous year’s harvest.
Others had recently been plowed, their freshly turned soil dark brown and moist.
A woman crouched beside the road, pulling weeds from the earth.
Hearing his footsteps, she raised her head.
The moment she saw Adrian, her hand froze.
She slowly stood but remained rooted in place, staring at him without knowing what to do.
Adrian continued walking.
Roughly half an hour later, a wooden fence appeared ahead.
It was not particularly high and enclosed a packed-earth clearing containing several wooden houses.
Thin streams of smoke rose from their chimneys.
Outside the fence, numerous makeshift stalls had been erected along the road.
Branches supported crude roofs, beneath which baskets, pottery jars, and various goods had been arranged.
People sat beneath the shelters, watching those who passed.
A half-grown child carrying a bundle of firewood walked between the stalls.
Upon noticing Adrian, the child slowed for a moment before lowering their head and quickly moving away.
Two men armed with spears stood at the entrance to the fenced settlement.
They leaned against the gateposts, their eyes fixed on him as he approached.
Adrian adjusted the heavy bundle over his shoulder and walked toward them.