The sky was a bright clear blue promising another fine hot day. Kayseri and the princess rode before him shaded from the twin suns by broad brimmed straw hats courtesy of Good-wife Woodstock. He followed exactly one horse length behind. The arrangement allowed him to watch the trail and afforded him an ample reaction zone, but best of all it discouraged conversation. He was in no mood for conversation although it did not prevent the ladies from trying. Twice they dropped back alongside him. Twice he ordered them forward. It was a joke really. He was only going through the motions and he knew it. If they came under attack today, he could do little to protect his charges. He had lost too much blood. This was what? Three days in the saddle on a couple of hours sleep. He was too tired to plan anything beyond their next rest stop. His ribs plagued him with every jarring movement and made it difficult to draw a breath. The newly closed gash on his leg throbbed in time with the horse’s gait.
