Max walked around the horse and held steady a stirrup. “Just grab the pommel of the saddle and put your foot here. Pull yourself up, swing your leg over, and get comfortable.”

“What if it bolts? I haven’t had a lot of luck with horses recently.”

“No, you haven’t, and he won’t. I’ve got him, and Yannick assured me he’s the gentlest horse he owns,” Max said, gripping the reins.

Bennett held her breath and followed Max’s instructions. A moment later, she was sitting atop a chestnut steed with her woolen skirt draped over the horse’s back end.

Max handed off the reins to the boy until he mounted his own horse, and then taking them back, he said, “I’m going to lead you. It’s but a brief ride, so there’s no need for us to rush. All right?”

“Yes,” Bennett said, her face contorting as the relentless thrum of the forest became like crashing cymbals in her ears. “But can you tell me how to stop the noise in my head? It’s so loud. It’s so bloody loud, Max. I want to scream.”

“After you feed, you’ll be able to control it better. For now, though, try to concentrate on something else. The beat of your own heart or that of the horse, something with more cadence, focus on that, and things will quiet down. I promise.”

With a squeeze of his legs and a click of his tongue, Max’s horse started walking, and loosely holding the other set of reins, they clip-clopped away from the house. Bennett said nothing, and Max wasn’t surprised. He glimpsed at her now and then, and her expression had yet to change. It was that of a person numb; completely and totally numb. Max didn’t know why Bennett had changed her mind, why she had chosen a life they both knew she had never wanted, but now was not the time to ask. Tonight would not be easy for either of them. As always, he would teach her, guiding her to the answers she sought, but tonight his tone would remain soft and caring, for Bennett was hurting, and so was he.

Bennett broke out of her thoughts when they came to a stop in the forest. Max dismounted, securing both horses' reins over a nearby branch before helping Bennett to the ground. Placing a finger against his lips, Max motioned for her to follow him, and a few steps later, they were kneeling behind some trees.

“Just past that stand of trees to our left is a small encampment,” Max said, keeping his voice low. “We saw it last night when we were returning, but as we’d already fed, there was no need to stop. There are three men, each having their own tent. They appeared to be vagabonds, so they won’t give you any problem.”