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Thornden hefted his saddle up on one arm and reached for the bridle. His heart was a little lighter this morning than it had been yesterday evening. What was to be done about Erbrand and Lithor was done and no one there would or could do anything more about it. All that lay before them seemed clear and straightforward. Nothing more could go wrong. The lords of the surrounding lands would listen to Athanar and pay, the men would work together, and all would be well.
So he hoped, anyway, but as he carried his saddle to his horse, passing other soldiers on the way, he went by Coenred and Hilderinc. He could not but help hear Hilderinc’s words as he passed, “…saluting to commander Thornden, and then riding away. When I asked him about it later – I assumed that it was a scout – he only said that he did not send…”
Thornden did not stop to hear what else he said. He did not even turn his head as though he had heard. He continued to his horse and set the saddle on the aisle wall. He stroked the horse’s shoulder firmly and then ran his hand down his back. Worried questions ran swiftly through his mind about what Hilderinc was saying. Finally he shook himself out of his reverie. “That’s not good, whatever it is,” he said to his horse, and then began saddling.
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