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The lords had disappeared inside again, making for a rather anticlimactic ending for such a large to-do, in Léof’s opinion. Now he was by himself, still near the stables with perhaps a third of the horses, while most of Athanar’s soldiers and the rest of the horses were milling about near the entrance to the hall. Faramund’s men, all mounted, were still formed up in ranks near the stables. Léof wondered if the crisis had truly been forestalled or merely put off, and whether he still ought to be worrying about “staying out of harm’s way,” as Hilderinc had instructed him. Léof frowned at the memory. He was no child to be looked after or scolded, like Cnebba or Garmund or even Javan when they got underfoot.
But the thought was put from his mind as the soldiers whose horses had not been retrieved came to get them. He then dismounted and followed them back across the yard to where the others waited, and brought Thornden’s horse with him as well. He spotted Quin near the edge of the group and headed over to him. “So much for all that,” he said. “Looks like everyone got worked up over nothing.”
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