Royce shrugged. “We needed anyone willing to help.”
“I didn’t believe you. Who of my kind would? No one ever gave fair shares of anything to an elf, but I was desperate. When it was over, Drake refused to pay me, just as I expected. But you kept your word and forced him to give me an equal share—and a horse. You threatened to kill the whole lot of them if they didn’t.” He allowed himself a little smile. “Drake handed over the gelding with full tack and never even checked it. I think he just wanted to get rid of me. I left before they could change their minds. I was miles away before I finally got a chance to look in the saddlebags. Fruits, nuts, meat, cheese, a pint of whiskey, a skin of cider, those would’ve been treasure enough. But I also found warm blankets, fine clothes, a hand axe, flint and steel, a knife—and the purse. There were gold tenents in that bag—twenty-two of them.”
“Gold tenents? You got Baron Trumbul’s horse?”
Ryn nodded. “There was more than enough gold to buy medicine, and with the horse I got back in time. I prayed I would be able to thank you before I died, and today I got my chance. I saw you in the city but could do nothing there. I am so glad I persuaded you to visit.”
“The mittens were a nice touch.”
“Please sit and be my guest for dinner.”
Royce hung his scarf alongside his cloak on one of the branches and set his boots to warm near the fire. The four ate together with little conversation.
After she had taken his empty bowl, Ryn’s wife spoke for the first time. “You look tired, Mr. Royce. Can we make you a bed for the night?”
“No. Sorry. I can’t stay,” Royce said while getting up, pleased to feel his feet again.
“You’re in a hurry?” Ryn asked.
“You could say that.”
“In that case, you will take my horse, Hivenlyn,” Ryn said.
An hour earlier, Royce would have stolen a horse from anyone he had happened upon, so he was surprised to hear himself say, “No. I mean, thanks, but no.”
“I insist. I named him Hivenlyn because of you. It means unexpected gift in Elvish. So you see, you must take him. He knows every path in this wood and will get you safely wherever you need to go.” Ryn nodded toward the boy, who nimbly slipped out the trapdoor.
“You need that horse,” Royce said.
“I’m not the one trudging through the forest in the middle of the night without a pack. I lived without a horse for many years. Right now, you need him more than I do. Or can you honestly say you have no use for a mount?”
“Okay, I’ll borrow him. I am riding to the Winds Abbey. I’ll let them know he is your animal. You can claim him there.” Royce bundled up and descended the rope. At the bottom, Ryn’s son stood with the readied horse.
Ryn climbed down as well. “Hivenlyn is yours now. If you have no further need, give him to someone who does.”
“You’re crazy,” Royce said, shaking his head in disbelief. “But I don’t have time to argue.” He mounted and looked back at Ryn, standing in the snow beneath his little home. “Listen… I’m not… I’m just not used to people… you know…”
“Ride safe and be well, my friend.”
Royce nodded and turned Hivenlyn toward the road.
He traveled all night, following the road and fighting a fresh storm that rose against him. The wind blew bitter, pulling his cloak away and causing him to shiver. He pushed the horse hard, but Hivenlyn was a fine animal and did not falter.
At sunrise they took a short rest in the shelter of fir trees. Royce ate the hard round of mushroom-stuffed bread Ryn’s wife had provided and gave Hivenlyn a bit of one end. “Sorry about the pace,” he told the horse. “But I’ll make sure you get a warm stall and plenty to eat when we arrive.” Royce failed to mention that the deal depended on his finding Gwen safe. Anything less, and he would not care about the needs of the horse. He would not care about anything.
The storm continued to rage all through that day. Gale-swept snow blew across the road, forming patterns that resembled ghostly snakes. During the entire trip, Royce did not come across a single traveler, and the day passed by in a blinding haze of white.