As the shadows of afternoon grew long, deepening toward sunset, Michael began the final preparations. Trying to suppress his own anxiety, he saddled the horse slowly and with care. He stroked its flanks, checked its limbs and hooves, all the while speaking softly and steadily. For this animal must not only carry them a considerable distance, but be silent and disciplined when they arrived.
It was a good mount, he reassured himself, sturdy and well trained. Whatever its master’s faults, he had clearly loved and cared for his horse.
With a sudden pang of sorrow and exhaustion, he remembered who that man had been, and to what end he had come. The unfairness of life, the endless cruelty.....
No. He could not give in. Whatever happened this night, to himself and the ones he loved, rested squarely on his shoulders. He must act. He must find a way.
As he finished, and led the mare toward the hut, Stephen stepped out of it. “You’re coming?” Michael asked him, as calmly as he could.
“Nothing has changed,” replied Purceville stiffly. “We’ve got to get her out. All else comes after.”
“Good,” said Michael thickly. “Good..... Will you hold her while I fetch the rope?” The other nodded.
Once inside, Michael slung the long, heavy coil across his neck and shoulder, then reemerged into the still, expectant air. The time had come.
He bowed his head in silence, but no words of prayer would come to him. Instead he took a deep breath, and opened his eyes to the task that lay ahead. He nodded tersely to his companion. Then began to descend, with Stephen leading the animal behind.
Upon reaching the branching of ways, it was agreed that neither would ride until they came down from the rough mountain paths, onto smoother, more tractable ground. They walked, as distance and Night closed around them.