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The riders settled into a smooth galloping pace that was meant to save the horses. At first Eodwine had thought to run until the horses tired, stop at farmsteads and demand fresh horses, but he thought better of it. Best to have their own mounts beneath them. It was not as if Sorn knew they were coming.
By nightfall they had covered much land so that in the morning there would be only a few hours' ride left to go before they were at Sorn's farmstead. It gave Eodwine great relief to think that this matter might be closed by the following night. They made camp under a stand of larches and elms near one of the many streams that flowed through the plains.
They sat around a camp fire, for they had no fear of being found out, sure that none from Sorn's camp had the least notion that they were hot on his trail. Whispers went back and forth about what kind of man Sorn must be to imprisone a princess for ransom. What desperation? Or what evil? Or what madness? The words were whispered on the breeze and caused Eodwine to wonder as he settle on his sleeping mat for the night.
They had set up a watch, two hours at a time, just as a precaution, and Eodwine wanted to get in some sleep before his turn in the wee hours before dawn.
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