Instead of leaving Stefan tied up somewhere outside, they put him in an empty cottage, unbound his hands and put guards outside his door. The window was small, too small for him to crawl through, there was no furniture and he could do nothing but sit down on the floor. Exhausted after little sleep the night before, Stefan soon lay down and went to asleep.
For four days, Stefan watched what little he could see through the small window. Twice a day he was given a scant meal and he asked questions each time, but all he learned was the name of the clan - they were indeed the dreaded Brodies whom Jirvel said surrounded the Macorans on what should have been her wedding day.
The Brodies, he decided on the first day, were preparing for war. Their horses were made ready, the men sharpened their swords, and new arrows were quickly crafted. But war did not come. There did, however, come a great shout from the courtyard on the third day. He doubted he would ever learn what that was about.
Day and night he worried. Did Kannak make it home safely, what would they do without him to work the land and did they think him dead? He took to trying to send a mental message to Kannak each night before he went to sleep. "I am alive, Kannak." He had no idea if such a thing was possible, but it was all he could do. He wondered what had become of his horse. The large brown spot on its rump made it distinctive and surely if the Macoran's saw it they would know it was his.
Sometimes he tried to understand why the black stallion seemed to appear just when they needed it most. Was the stallion truly a gift from God as Jirvel said? He found some measure of comfort in the thought that God, by virtue of the black stallion, was watching over the woman he loved and her mother.
On the fifth day, the door opened and instead of bringing him a meal, two men bound his hands again and took him out into the bright sunlight. He was put on an unfamiliar horse, joined with six other bound men and a guard of twenty took them out of the Brodie village. This time, the Macoran he spotted the night of his capture was also bound. He looked hard at the herd of horses as they passed by, but his was not among them and he suspected the mare had already been bartered away.
They did not have to travel but half a day to reach a wide glen and when the Brodie guards handed their charges over to guards from yet another clan, a pouch of money was also exchanged. It did not take long for Stefan to realize he had been sold.