“You can and you will.” He shook her hands. With effort, she focused on him—and realized there was no longer any kindness in his face. “He’ll not be as far ahead as you think.”

“He can run until he tires, then use another horse—”

“And where would the Lightbringer be getting another horse? There’s not a spare horse to be had, what with the huntsmen needing riding horses and pack horses to join the other Fae heading for the coast. And the rest of the horses are needed to protect the Old Place. No, Morag. Whether on four legs or two, they’ll be his own. If he wants food, no one will stand in his way of going to the kitchen and getting some for himself, but there’s no one who will fetch and carry for him. He’ll have to travel harder and won’t get as far. As for you, you’ll get a few hours sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll give you a horse you can ride through the next Clan territory or two. You can leave him there, and the Clan will send him back to us.”

The dark horse snorted, stamped a foot.

The stable master grinned as he looked over his shoulder. “Never fear, lad. She’ll not be leaving you. But you’ll run easier if you’re only carrying yourself, and I’m thinking she’ll need you strong at the end of the journey.”

Morag frowned. “You said there weren’t any horses to spare.”

He turned back to her, no longer amused. “We’ve none to spare for the likes of him. You’re in the west now, Morag. Things are different here. The Lightbringer will get no help from us, and you’ll get all the help we can give.”

The west. She’d reached the west.

She let him lead her to the cot in the stall. Before she could collapse on it, female voices suddenly filled the stable. Women came into the stall carrying a basin of steaming water and bundles of cloth. They shooed the stable master out and closed both halves of the stall doors before she could warn them not to. The next thing she knew, she was stripped out of her clothes, given a hurried sponge bath, bundled into a clean nightgown, and tucked into bed like a weary child. The women promised they’d have her clothes washed and dried by first light. Then they were gone.

She heard the quiet creak of a door opening and struggled away from the sleep that pulled at her.

“There now, lad,” murmured the strong voice. “Don’t fret now. We’re not shutting you in. Just keeping the bottom half closed to give your lady a bit of privacy. Rest now. Rest. You’ve work to do soon enough.”