When they reached the entry foyer, Antello branched off towards the greeting room and Lyra spied Syman near the front doors. Nodding to Syman as he searched through the pouch of an elderly man, Lyra continued past him, anxious to be rid of the smell of death that permeated the air of the castle. Syman joined her outside and helped her secure the packs.

“I managed to pick up a fair amount of coin,” remarked Syman. “I guess they won’t have any more use for it.”

“Don’t feel bad about it, Syman,” nodded Lyra. “The coins will be used to avenge their deaths. I think they would be satisfied to know how it will be used. Were you able to secure any decent weapons?”

“Oh, yeah,” brightened Syman. “I even packed spares in case some become unusable. We will have no shortage of Stars or arrows. I also packed some tools for keeping the weapons in good condition.”

“Are the horses going to be able to move?” Lyra asked as she lifted the last pack of provisions to her horse and began tying it down.

“It’s not as heavy as you think,” noted Syman, “and we weigh much less than a lot of riders I’ve seen. Besides, the weight will go down as we eat and discard items no longer serviceable.”

Antello arrived and the three young avengers mounted and rode across the drawbridge. Syman took the lead and turned towards the forest instead of heading for the road. “We are better off keeping clear of the roads until we get away from here,” he explained. “I hid the body of the raider we killed. They will find it, but it may delay them for an hour. Maybe they will think he fled.”

The sun was well into the sky as the three youngsters headed across the open field towards the forest. Lyra began to feel the moistness of perspiration as she gazed at the cool inviting woods ahead of her and began to let her mind drift back to the morning attack. She had been so busy searching for survivors and packing to leave that she hadn’t given much thought to why the attack had occurred.