Missy danced sideways, pulling at the reins, preventing Thomas from putting his foot in the stirrup. She obviously sensed his anxiety. He stoked her neck to soothe her and took a deep breath, trying to let his tension go. He didn’t fancy getting bucked off the second he sat in the saddle.
Father Gaeth approached, holding up a hand in greeting. “The bishop bid me to see ye off. God go with ye, Master Thomas. We will pray for ye both, to be sure.”
Conaire nodded at the monk, his horse also fidgeting underneath him. His hound paced around them in a circle, whining under her breath. The Ward’s patience had stretched to the breaking point. It was time to go.
Thomas mounted Missy, who swished her tail and pinned her ears back, but kept her feet on the ground. “Thank you, Father. God be with
