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Quickly Ransom saddled his horse and, going inside, retrieved the few supplies they would need.
When he came out, Annabeth had mounted and was waiting for him. He mounted and she looked at him curiously.
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“I don’t. Why?”
“Just, some men I know...” She shook her head and put her heels into her horse’s sides. Ransom followed.
They traveled around the mountain into a valley and out into a thick forest where the moon could barely pierce through the branches to show them the way. The sun rose as they reached the edge of the forest.
Annabeth smiled. “We made better time than I thought. We are going to have to stop here for about a half hour while I get into my disguise. Anything beyond here is dangerous for me.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Anything you like. Just don’t follow me.”
He looked at her questioningly.
“I promise I shan’t run away, and if I take more than a half hour you can follow after me.”
Ransom shook his head and dismounted, unsaddled, and unbridled his horse, turning him out to pasture.
He watched the sun rise and counted time pensively. Was it a good decision to take her at her word? What if?
As it came to the half hour, Ransom whistled to his horse. Saddling him once more, he prepared to go after Annabeth.
Just as he finished, there was the squeaking and rattle of a rickety old cart, filled with a few belongings: a stick or two of furniture, a pile of hay, and small barrels of food. He glanced at it, only to do a double take. It was an old lady, bent and crooked, leading a horse with mange. He had seen them before, hadn’t he? There was no way in the world...was it possible?
Leading his horse towards the elderly lady, he looked at her curiously, searching for similarities.
“What are you looking at?” snapped the old woman, but with a definitely younger voice that was trying not to laugh.
“Annabeth?”
Suddenly the old woman straightened, raising her stout stick as if to thrash him. He put his hand out to block the blow.
A girlish laugh broke from the old woman.
“I said you wouldn’t recognize me.” Her bright eyes snapped with pleasure.
“I did recognize you.”
“Only because you were looking for me. And you remembered, didn’t you?”
“That I did. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. But how?”
“They haven’t unraveled this one yet because I pretended to be a mute, and they usually don’t even stop to talk to me. So, what do you say?”
“I think it is very clever, but to be limited to a walking pace will slow you down considerably.”
“Not quite. I was thinking that you could be, um...” She laughed and blushed even beneath the face powder she had used to make herself look older.
“That I could...?”
“Be escorting an elderly relative to your home or something like that.”
“Ah-ha.”
“I could sit on the back of the cart and you could ride and lead your horse, keeping our pace pretty strong.”
He laughed. “You think of everything, don’t you?”
“I have to.”
“Well, let’s get on the road.”
“Not quite yet; I think you should be warned there is a reward on your head.”
“What?”
“I don’t know how they have found out, but I pulled this down a few towns ago.” She retrieved the sheet of paper from the cart.
He took it and read: “Reward: five hundred pieces of gold for the man assisting Annabeth. Be ye here warned they are armed and dangerous...”
Annabeth pulled the paper from his hands. “People will make up such nonsense these days.”
She slid the paper back into the haystack, pulled out an old leather jerkin and gray workman’s shirt, and offered them to him.
“There is no description, but just in case.”
“Anything that fits you I doubt will fit me.”
“They are too big for me; they should fit well.”
Ransom began to take off his leather jerkin and shirt. Annabeth turned away and walked to the end of the cart. Looking up at the sun, she shielded her eyes.
When he had finished, Ransom came to her side. “Where do I put these?”
“Oh,” she said, and pulled out a sack, putting the clothes in. She slipped them under the hay.
“To pull off the whole farmer look, you might want to put your sword under the hay.”
“Is that where yours is?”
She nodded. “They have never looked there before, and it keeps me safe. I mean, an old woman with a sword looks rather suspicious.”
Ransom laughed. “How did you know these would fit me?”
“Just a wild guess. I picked them up a long time ago. I thought I would trim them down to my size. Just never got the time, I guess,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Shall we?”
Ransom nodded. “I think that would be a good plan.” He looked at her archly, and added dryly, “Grandmother.”
Annabeth burst out laughing. “Don’t call me that or I shall not keep a straight face.”
Gently picking up Annabeth, he sat her on the stack of hay. “There; now you can rest, and not strain yourself.”
“Ransom, I...”
“You are still wounded and need all of your strength.”
“I can manage just fine.”
“You will lie there and rest, or I’ll tie you to the cart.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Don’t try me.”
She leaned against the hay, her eyes trying to sift him out. He didn’t give her that chance, but, mounting, took the horse’s bridle and began to lead the rickety old cart onto the road and head south.