Xink was hastily swinging down from his mount. "Praulth, are you hurt? Are you—are..." His normally handsome face was a rictus of concern as he knelt over her.

She nearly shoved him away as he helped her sit upright. She gathered what breath she'd had knocked out of her by the fall.

"Tend the horses, you two!" Merse called angrily, reaching over to grab up the loose reins of Praulth's mount. Xink's horse was shuffling about skittishly.

Now Praulth did give Xink a shove. "Get the beast before he tramples me to death." She was more confident on horseback now than when they'd left the University at Febretree, bound for Petgrad, but she was never going to be an accomplished rider. Merse had set the punishing pace. It was urgent they get where they were going.

As Xink wrangled his horse to a standstill, Praulth realized for the first time the true peril of this situation. That arrow! It had nearly taken her nose off, yes. But who had fired it? Was their party being... being waylaid?

She scrambled to her feet, heart pounding. Merse was still atop his horse. He now had a knife in hand. He would surely laugh at her for her slow reflexes—if they had occasion later to reflect back on this incident. Merse was the Petgradite messenger who had fetched her from the University.

This stretch of road was abutted on either side by dense foliage. But the arrow was sticking in that tree on this side; so it had to have come from that side of the roadway. Praulth peered into the woods. The day was early—Merse had barely permitted a watch of sleep—and there was a maze of shadows amongst those trees.

"Do you see anything?" she asked.

"By the madness of the gods," Merse hissed, "quiet." He too was studying the woodland, eyes narrow in his aging leathery face.

Praulth took her horse's reins from him but didn't climb back onto the saddle. She patted the creature's sides, and it quieted. She listened, intensely aware now of every sound that emerged from the surrounding trees.