As the children stepped forward to embrace Tavis, a loud whinny sounded in the street outside. The cadence of galloping hooves echoed through the gate, then Blizzard's speckled form streaked into the courtyard. A mantle of white lather covered the mare from her muzzle down to her breast, and her eyes were mad with fatigue. She rushed to within a few paces of Tavis and reared, neighing madly.
Tavis pushed the orphans away, then grabbed Basil's shoulder and positioned the verbeeg in front of the children. He moved toward the mare slowly, his palms turned toward the horse to show her he was carrying nothing dangerous.
"Where's Brianna?" he asked in a soft voice. "Let me come close to look at your saddle."
The mare lashed out with her front hooves, then dropped to her feet and ran to the gate. She stopped there and fixed a black eye on Tavis, snorting impatiently as she caught her breath.
"That horse seems quite mad," observed Basil.
"She's certainly upset," Tavis replied. He took his sword belt off his rucksack and strapped it around his waist, then picked up Bear Driller and slung a quiver of arrows over his shoulder. "Something must have happened to Brianna."
Tavis started toward the gate, but Avner caught him by the arm. "Think this through," the boy said. "Brianna's the one who's sending you away. It'd be unfortunate if something has befallen her, but do you really-"
"Avner, don't even say it," Tavis interrupted. He glared down at the youth. "How could you wish misfortune on someone who's done as much for you as Princess Brianna?"
Avner's cheeks flushed. "You're right. I'm sorry." He took a slim dagger out of his bundle. "I'll come along to help."
Tavis shook his head. "Stay here and look after the others," he said. "If Brianna didn't reach Castle Hartwick, there won't be anyone coming to look after you and the other children."
Avner scowled. "I'm no child."
"And we don't need anyone to watch after us," Livia added. "We were doing that long before you took us in."
Blizzard neighed again, then stamped her feet on the ground and trotted through the gate.
"I don't have lime to argue about this," Tavis snapped. Livia and the other children recoiled at his sharp tone, but Avner did not flinch. "Just do as I say one last time. You'll be rid of me soon enough."
The children dropped their gazes, and several of the younger ones wiped their eyes.
"Don't cry," Tavis pleaded. "There will be plenty of time for that after I find Brianna."
"Then you'll come back?" Avner asked, his spirits rising.
"At least to say good-bye."
With that, Tavis ran out the gate. When he turned toward Castle Hartwick, he saw Blizzard waiting at this edge of town. She whinnied, then set off down the road. Tavis followed at a trot, realizing the run ahead could be a long one.
Before he had gone very far, the firbolg heard a clumsy, flat-footed gait coming up from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Basil lumbering up the road. The runecaster had left his sack of stolen books behind and carried only a small satchel over his shoulder. Tavis neither slowed his pace nor increased it, allowing the gaunt verbeeg to catch up in due time.
When Basil finally clumped up beside him, Tavis asked, "What are you doing here?"
"Avner… arranged… it," the verbeeg gasped. "He said I could have his books if I watched over you."
Tavis scowled, far from happy to hear the boy was using stolen goods to ensure his safety. Increasing his pace slightly, he said, "I hope you can keep up."
Somehow. Basil did. While Tavis trotted down the dusty road in near silence, the verbeeg pounded along at his side, gasping for breath and holding his ribs. Despite his obvious agony, never once did the runecaster ask the scout to slowdown. Soon, the firbolg found himself admiring his companion's will, and even began to consider that having a magic-user along might prove useful if Brianna were in serious trouble.
Pausing frequently to look back and make sure Tavis and Basil were still following, Blizzard led the pair onward for the better part of an hour. Though they crossed several streams and the mare's mouth was frothing with thirst, not once did she pause to drink. They passed dozens of granges, small farms with huts of rough hewn logs and pastures fenced by walls of stacked rock. Usually, neither the inhabitants nor their animals were visible, for the sight of a verbeeg, even one accompanied by Tavis Burdun, was enough to send most peasants info hiding.
The farms slowly gave way to long, rounded bluffs of brown granite and tangled heaths of low-growing spruce. Presently, they reached the base of Coggin's Rise, where the road entered a stand of aspen trees. Blizzard stopped and stared into the white forest with pricked ears and flaring nostrils.
