The men ran past my hiding spot and I breathed a sigh of relief. Once their footsteps faded, I left the bush and crept back to the road. Keeping to the cover of the trees and bushes nearest the road, I made my way to the carriage. The coachman was standing behind, watching for his comrades, I assumed.
I snuck past him and got to the horses. There were four large horses harnessed to the carriage. With an impish smile, I pulled my dagger out of its sheath and began carefully cutting the horses free. They remained standing, not realizing they had been released.
I approached the largest, a muscular gray gelding with a black mane. Whispering to keep him calm, I shrugged off my coat and spread it on his broad back, then used his harness to pull myself up.
He trembled beneath me, unused to carrying a rider most likely. I hesitated a moment, praying that the stolen afternoons riding bareback on my aunt and uncle's land in the country had prepared me enough for this, then kicked him forward with a loud, "Haaaa!"
The other horses took off as well. I managed to maneuver my horse around and start him back towards where Del had been left.
I looked back after passing the carriage and saw the coachman chasing the other horses. That would keep him occupied, hopefully long enough for me to rescue their victim.
When I reached the spot where they had removed Del from the carriage, I slowed the horse. He walked slowly into the trees and, once we were far enough in to keep him hidden from anyone on the road, I hopped off and tied him to a tree.
"I will return soon," I whispered, rubbing his soft nose.
The men must have knocked Del out before moving him, because I could see a clear trail where something heavy had been dragged. I followed the trail, grateful for the moonlight and for the well-spaced trees that allowed me to see so clearly.
Only a few minutes of walking brought me to Del. He was tied at the wrists and ankles, his chest bare and one of his arms bleeding. The rope around his wrists had been tied to a tree branch, holding him up.
He was slumped and, I thought, unconscious as I approached.
"Jen," he whispered, looking at me groggily.
"Del! You are awake." I smiled.
"Yes." He began pulling against the ropes at his wrist. I hurried to his side and carefully cut him free. He collapsed on the soft ground and I knelt at his side.
A long cut down his forearm bled freely. "I will need to clean and bind this," I warned. Harford wore only his pants, so I turned away to give myself some privacy and used the dagger to cut strips from the bottom of my nightgown. I also cut the sleeves off to use as pads.
Turning back, I pulled the water from my knapsack and set to work silently cleaning his cut. I used all the water and got it as clean as I could, then laid the folded sleeves down and tied them in place with the strips.
When I finished, Del lay unmoving with his eyes closed and I wondered if he had lost consciousness again.
"Del," I said softly, touching his face.
He groaned and grabbed my hand, opening his eyes and frowning. "I do not think I can walk very far tonight."
"I have a horse," I answered. "If I support you, can you walk back to the road?"
He nodded and I helped him stand. We moved slowly and clumsily back the way we had come, my arm around his waist and his arm around my shoulder. We had to pause every few steps for him to rest.
Finally, we reached the horse. "I can get us home," I promised. "But you will have to hold onto me." Del nodded weakly, shivering against me. "Oh, you are cold. I have a blanket."
I reached into my knapsack and pulled out the blanket, carefully draping it over his broad shoulders and tucking it into his waistband. "Would it be better if I helped you from down here or up there?" I asked, motioning to the horse.
"I can get up myself," he said, his mouth set in a grim line. With a groan of pain, he pulled himself up. I followed, nearly sliding back off. Thankfully, Del's strong arm around my waist pulled me into place. I grabbed the reins as he wrapped his arms tightly around me.
"You can rest," I offered. He did not answer, but his head sank down onto my shoulder and his arms relaxed. His breaths brushed the exposed skin of my neck, giving me chills. I turned the horse back to the road and urged him forward as quickly as I dared. We had at least an hour of riding to get back to the ridge, if my estimate was correct. Hopefully the path would be marked or familiar enough for me to find my way.
We rode in silence, Del asleep on my shoulder while I looked anxiously for a sign to tell me where to go. Finally, I reached a wooden post with a large sign pointing to Solnaran. I breathed a sigh of relief and started down the road. It was a road I did not recognize, but as long as we got back to Solnaran, we could find our way home.
The road seemed to stretch forever. It branched off, but I did not want to risk wandering and continued straight. Eventually, the road became familiar.
"Oh," I whispered happily. "We are on the service road."
It was a small road that ran behind many homes on the ridge. Milkmen, dressmakers, and other tradesmen used this road to deliver their wares to the grand houses of the ridge so they could avoid the traffic on the main street and, probably more importantly to the ridge folk, so the streets were not cluttered with common people.
We were nearly home.