Despite his bone-deep fatigue, Kerrick lumbered to his feet. “Fill him in along the way. We need to get some distance between us and the cannibals.”

Kerrick organized the rescued townspeople into a single line again. He mounted Hux and the group headed northeast toward Mengels. Flea joined Belen in the rear position, explaining everything that had happened since Belen had gone missing.

Even though he tried to keep a brisk pace, eighteen people on foot took six days to travel back to Mengels. Which meant Kerrick and Flea were now nine days late and hadn’t even left Mengels yet.

Of course, Mom insisted on feeding the refugees a hot meal and giving them a good night’s sleep before she’d leave.

“They’ve had a terrible time. It’s the least I can do,” she said, waving off Kerrick’s objections.

Another delay. At this rate they’d be sixteen days late, arriving a week after the first day of winter. He hoped Avry would forgive him for worrying her once she saw Belen.

Instead of spending the extra time brooding over the wait, he searched for a horse strong enough to carry Belen and Mom. Perhaps he needed two horses. Since everyone had evacuated Mengels, Kerrick spurred Huxley out of town, then let the horse decide which direction to go.

After a few hours, Huxley found a small farm northwest of town. The farmer and his young family had packed a wagon, tying on crates and furniture. Two horses had been harnessed to it with two waiting nearby. And a few more grazed in a pasture behind the farmhouse.

Kerrick called a greeting so he didn’t alarm them. Even so, the man grabbed a shovel and stepped between Kerrick and his three small children.

“Easy, sir, I’m just looking to buy a couple horses. Do you have any for sale?” Kerrick asked.

The man tightened his grip.

Pulling his money pouch from his belt, Kerrick spilled a few gold coins into his palm. “I can pay you.”

Now the man relaxed. “You lookin’ to evacuate?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “You should have left days ago.”

“I could say the same to you.”

The man grinned, exposing large crooked teeth. “True. But my babe was too sick to travel.” He hooked a thumb at his wife. She held an infant. “You hear any news?”

Kerrick told him what he knew. The wife’s strained expression eased.

“We’ve a few days, then. Good. How many horses are you lookin’ for?”

“Two.”

It didn’t take long to negotiate a price, and soon Kerrick headed back to the Lamp Post Inn with a barrel-chested black horse and a cream-colored mare.