CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It was a relatively short journey on horseback. The farmhouse Rufus described was easily found in the night. Hiding the horses in a thick copse of elms, the two made their way through the trees swiftly, but silently, toward the low walled farm stead.
Discovering a small hill that overlooked the farmyard and all its buildings, the two squatted down on their haunches and took up the lonesome vigil of observation. Pulling cloaks over their shoulders, neither man said anything for several minutes as each surveyed the farm below. A half hour slipped as the night began to cool rapidly. At the end of the silence both watched a large red moon rise up over a set of small hills, and at the same time, heard the distinct sounds of a horse's rapid approach.
A rider slid off his
