Justice, Not Revenge

The rhythmic hoofbeats gradually slowed as Sir Michael led our horses into a secluded grove nestled between a cluster of trees we had spotted from afar. The moon, now higher in the sky, cast a silvery glow over the clearing. We dismounted, the horses exhaling warm breaths in the chilly night air.

We didn't want to attract attention, but the chilly night air left us no choice but to gather wood and start a small fire. Sir Michael went off on his own, worried my stitches would reopen. Surprisingly, I felt completely healed, but I said nothing. I wasn't sure how long I had been out for, but I didn't think I should have healed that fast. It could have been the adrenaline rush from excitement as we sped off that was dulling the pain. I would feel it later.