“Time, Donnal?”
The old man flipped open his pocket watch. “Four eighty-three. Almost midday.”
They both looked up at the sun overhead that continued its climb into the sky. Alara tried to stand, but her legs had had enough for the day. “You should go bring Ser Stratford now,” she said. The butler dashed into the manor without another word.
Ser Stratford bounded down his front stoop with all ecstatic joy. He made short work of banishing the plague of mortal exhaustion that had come over Alara with a wave of his hand, letting her stand to speak with him. “You’ve done well,” he said. “Far better than I expected, in fact.”
“I can run now,” Alara confirmed.
“Twenty miles or so. Nothing to scoff at to be sure, but there are plenty out there that can do the same.” Ser Stratford hefted th
