“I didn’t see them—”

“But there’s been talk, surely, in the settlements, and in your friend’s burrow.  You know Jorb, so you must know members of his family. When did the Bnen attack him? How long ago? Are they moving this way?”

Dain could not answer his rapid-fire questions. His legs felt so numbed by the water he could no longer feel them. Perhaps that was a mercy, for they had stopped aching with fatigue, but he did not feel steady. In fact, as he took a cautious step forward, he thought his knees might buckle beneath him. His arm, wounded by the arrow Gavril had shot at him earlier and now cut by the whip, throbbed with a pain that hurt all the way up to the backs of his eyes. In truth, he hurt all over. And Thia was a league away, hidden in the forest, hurt and in dire need of help. He did not think she would live much longer if the arrow was not taken out. He had tried last night, and only hurt her more. This man was kind. If Dain could only find a way to reach that kindness on Thia’s behalf, he knew he could save her.

He reached out and gripped the man’s stirrup with his cold hands. “Please help her, for you are a kind and just lord. I only tried to take the prince’s horse to get Thia food and help. She needs—” With a grunt, Lord Odfrey reached around and untied the cords securing a leather pouch to the back of his saddle. He tossed it at Dain, who caught it clumsily.  “There’s food enough to get you home,” Lord Odfrey said. “A wedge of cheese and some bread. Now be off with you, lad. No harm will come to you on my land.”