“So, in view of my sixty-three years, you are a child. If you were any younger, you’d be a baby, so don’t give me any more of your sass or I’ll put you over my knee.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” said Éhal, doubtfully, and quickly retreated into her tent. There was no question in her mind but that the old healer was to be taken at his word.

She awoke to a sound like thunder. Disoriented, and in total darkness of night, she stumbled out of her tent. Gradually, the sound receded, and she recognised it as the sound of many hooves. They were attacking Morlock’s army.

She heard voices shouting. There were several horses coming very close. She almost stumbled as she felt like they were going to run her down, so near were they. Abruptly, they came to a halt.

She heard someone dismount, and recognised his voice. It was Florin.

“It is time, miss. Vaka, pack her tent. Éhal, come with me.” He picked her up easily and set her on his horse.

“Vaka has charge over your horse,” said Florin. “He will be your eyes while you assist Baldric. But for now, you will ride with me, until your horse learns to be led by his reins. He does not like being led so, and if he bolts while you are astride him, he would be difficult to catch.”




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