19 
THE STAG
Drest and Tig took their places beneath Emerick’s arms, and the three lurched across the empty road and crashed into the woods. They made no attempt to conceal the sounds of their steps.
“Here!” Tig drew up short beside an ancient pine with branches that seemed to reach beyond the midnight sky.
“Must we climb that?” Emerick moaned.
Tig pointed to a fallen branch as wide as a cloak, strewn with moss. Struggling, he tried to lift it. “Help me, Drest!”
She let Emerick go and with both hands lifted the front of the branch, tearing up a hollow in the soil.
“There,” Drest said. “Both of you, crawl in. Quick.”
Emerick sank to the ground and slid under the branch with a groan. Tig climbed after him, leaving space for Drest. She crawled between them and lowered the branch to rest against her shoulders. A second later, Mordag’s caw exploded above them.
A footstep creaked on the twigs close by. There was quiet, then the sound of boots scraping bark: The bandit was climbing the tree. Those sounds became distant, but grew louder as he returned. His steps circled, and again he stopped before the hollow where they hid.
“Come on, girl, I’m tired of this. Come out and let’s have a talk. You owe me that much. Ask your father why.”
Ask Da? Drest thought. Grimbol had always spoken harshly of bandits, called them worthless rats with no sense of loyalty. Drest shuddered to think of what he must have done for the bandit to go to such pains to hunt her.
A whimper came up from Drest’s throat, and she could not fully stifle it.
Quiet, lass, whispered Thorkill’s voice in her mind. Stay calm. He won’t see you if you’re silent.
I want him to go away, Drest thought, tears filling her eyes. I don’t know what Da did to him, but I’ve done nothing, and I’ve only got three more days. Please make him go.
I can’t, lass; I’m in ropes at the castle. Ah, my sweet Drest, if I were with you now, I’d crush that fly. But you must manage on your own.
It was as if the words had truly come from Thorkill in his ropes at Faintree Castle—and they made Drest’s heart ache all the more.
Drest dozed, though she tried not to, and woke with a start when she felt the weight of the branch shift on her shoulders. She had no room to draw her sword, packed in as she was against Emerick and Tig. Panic froze her.
Nay, lass, said Gobin’s voice, don’t be scared. He expects you to be sleeping. Surprise him with an attack.
I can’t, Gobin.
Don’t think. Do what I say: Slip out from under this branch and knock him down. If you’re quick enough, you’ll have time to draw your sword. Ready, lass?
I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready, Gobin; I’m so tired and—
Don’t think. Slip out—now!
Drest pushed up the branch and flung herself against the intruder.
She met a wall of short, warm fur.
Drest fell back.
Enormous startled eyes, glistening and brown, stared down at her.
It was a stag, a kingly one, with a mass of antlers like an overgrown crown. It did not occur to Drest that a stag of that size could end her journey with one blow from those mighty antlers. She was so stunned by its presence that she held out her hand to touch its coat and make sure that it was real.
The fur was soft as down.
With a snort, the stag walked forward and raised its mighty head.
A hooded figure in a long black cloak stepped from the shadows and swung itself up on the stag. The rider’s face looked back at Drest from beneath the hood, visible for an instant in the moonlight.
It was Merewen, unsmiling.
The moon went behind the clouds again.
Into the shadows the stag leaped, and soon it was running between the trees with more noise than Drest would have thought a stag could make: breaking branches, rustling leaves—noises, Drest realized with a start, that sounded much like three travelers stumbling through the woods.
She was still motionless by the fallen branch when a shape detached from the branches above her head and jumped down, landing only a few feet away. It was a man’s shape, and it reeked of sweat.
“There you go, running off,” muttered the man. “You’re as much of a coward as your father.”
Drest watched him disappear in the path of the stag. She was frozen by his sudden presence but also by the glimpse she’d had of her rescuer.
You’re out, you’re free, the bandit’s running away, and here you’re standing like a toad doing nothing, snapped Uwen’s voice. Have you forgotten about us?
Drest’s heart began to pound. She lifted the branch. Tig looked up, blinking, then scrambled out.
“There was a stag here,” Drest said. “With Merewen on its back. She saved us, Tig. The bandit’s going after her, not us. Now quick, help me with Emerick.”
But the boy didn’t move. “Merewen was here? That means she’s following us. I wonder what she wants.”
“Tig, we haven’t time to think of that. We have to get out of these woods!” Drest knelt and drew a limp, groggy Emerick to his feet.
Tig took his place under the young knight’s other arm, and soon they were rushing out from the trees and onto the road.