She frowned and quickly knelt down. Rolling Bel to one side, she unlaced his hauberk enough to get her hand inside the neck, so she could gently probe his wounded shoulder. The bandage there was damp but not wet, and when she withdrew her hand she saw her fingers only tinged with pink, a mixture of sweat and a little blood. His wound had not reopened, as she had feared for a moment. But he was still so pale. She put two fingers on his neck to feel his pulse. It was steady, if not strong. She felt his forehead too, which was cool but not clammy, confirming that he was simply exhausted, and not struck down by fever. He would be better for a sleep, and she felt confident he would be able to continue in the morning.

If she left, he would fly on to Hillfair, thought Clariel. No doubt sadder but none the worse.

Bel would tell the Abhorsen what had happened. He would avenge her mother and father. Kilp and Aronzo would have to pay, and pay with their lives. But as everyone said, revenge was a dish best made with care. Better to go to Estwael and take the time to plan and prepare, rather than rushing back to Belisaere. Besides, Clariel told herself, she didn’t care how Kilp and Aronzo died, provided someone killed them.

The forest and freedom was so close, and she could make it to Estwael …

‘I will go,’ whispered Clariel, almost as if Bel could hear her and that made it more honest. ‘I’ll have to borrow your sword and your money, if you have any …’

Since she was stealing his sword anyway, it made sense to search him for a purse. He didn’t have one, but there were three gold bezants and five silver deniers in a pocket at the top of his left boot, and a knife in the top of his right boot. Clariel left him the knife and one of the bezants.

Though the night was warm, she put on the cloak. It was dark, unlike her smock. Pursuit was unlikely, but you never knew what might be lurking in the woods. It would be better to at least try to remain unseen.

She also left the food and the water bottle for Bel. Though it had been a hot summer she had seen many small streams from the Paperwing, so finding water would not be a problem. Food might be more of an issue, given the ordered nature of the woods about, but there were farms. Now she could buy food as well as steal it.

The biggest problem was simply the distance to Estwael. More than two hundred leagues and that barefoot – though she could perhaps buy some shoes, or make rough sandals from bark, or slippers from animal skin. All the while having to avoid contact with other people as much as possible.