Aidan sat there, torn up inside. He knew that if he tried to free it, or help it, he would be discovered. That would mean his being abandoned here in the middle of this wood—which, in turn, would mean death. The cost of saving this creature would be high—it would be his own life. And for a dying animal.

Yet Aidan didn’t care. What mattered most to him was doing the right thing.

Aidan crawled through the hay, trying to stay low, reached over, and stroked the dog’s fur. He expected it to bite him, given what he knew about the breed, but he was shocked to see the dog, perhaps because it was wounded, whine and lick his hand.

“Shhh,” Aidan tried to soothe him. “You’ll be okay.” Aidan examined its white hide, and said, “I shall call you White.”

White whined, as if in approval.

Aidan glanced up, relieved the driver had not spotted him, and examined White’s wound. He tore a strip off his tunic and wrapped it around the dog’s leg, and as it did, White whined louder. Aidan quickly pulled a piece of dried meat from his sack and placed it in his mouth, trying to quiet him.

White chewed weakly, his eyes half closed, and Aidan sensed he was very weak. He seemed to be gravely injured, and Aidan wondered if he would live.

Yet after he swallowed it, to Aidan’s surprise, White opened his eyes wide and appeared to have a burst of energy. He looked directly at Aidan with a grateful look, and Aidan felt they were bonded for life. Aidan knew he could not walk away from this animal—whatever the cost. He had to free it.

Aidan removed his small dagger from his belt and quickly severed the ropes binding White’s paws, and a moment later, he was free.

White sat up and looked at Aidan with what appeared to be a look of surprise. He began to wag his tail.

“Shhhh,” Aidan said, “don’t move. Or we shall both be discovered.”

But White was too excited—and Aidan could not control him as he burst to his feet, sending hay everywhere in a big commotion. Aidan’s heart stopped, knowing they would be discovered.

Sure enough, a moment later the carriage came to a jolting stop, slamming Aidan’s head on the wood rail. Hardly had the horses stopped when the driver jumped down and came running around the back.

Aidan saw an angry man standing there, hands on his hips, scowling down at them both. He appeared surprised to see the dog alive, more surprised to see him free, and furious to see Aidan sitting there.

“Who are you, boy?” the man demanded.  “And what are you doing on my cart?” The man then scowled at the dog. “And what have you done with my kill?”