My self-imposed gall didn’t take me as far as I would have liked, before I started to feel the encumberment from my luggage. The realisation hit me fast that I was in no state to single-handedly catch up with the caravan to rescue my beloved from whatever predicament he was in.

Edmund and I normally travelled alongside caravans for safety, owning a small carriage to get us to and fro. But I lacked the skill to operate the thing, nor did I think it was prudent to just disappear with just the horse. I knew how to ride. But Largo’s back was wide like an ox, with a backbone protruding from old age, and we didn’t even have a saddle. If I was guaranteed to save Elijah at the cost of my crown jewels, I would. But I wasn’t one to gamble with them.

So, I had instantly turned to my own two feet for locomotion. Which I realised to be not one of my most astute notions, before the drab village of Glaudran was even out of sight.

I gazed wistfully at the horses I passed, trying hard to keep myself from feeling dispirited. For an instant I thought to buy one, but realised immediately I was literally penniless. Another lingering moment I was briefly tempted to steal a horse, but that too soon faded. For however desperate I may be, and whatever harsh judgements my former manager may speak of me, I’m not without morals, nor a complete ignoramus.

Stealing a horse in these parts, well, that would result in nothing less than a hanging. No matter the extenuating circumstances. Same goes for robbing a person of a season’s worth of income, which was the entire reason why I was unwilling to call the guards.

But maybe there were other ways to get what I needed.

The horses I had spotted in the green fields alongside the road I travelled, turned out to belong to a Lord. I reached his mansion and sought audience, pleading my case before him, and requesting to borrow a mount.

The greying nobleman was much empathic to my cause, undoubtedly partly due with his young wife’s heartfelt reaction to the romantic notion of a man setting out to save his beloved from the hands of criminals. Unfortunately, he wasn’t willing to part with one of his steeds without a token of insurance.

I tried to peddle my most expensive jewellery, which pleased the lady of the house immensely. But even my ruby necklace and silver comb were not enough to sway the Lord. He stated that, however flashy, their value on the market was significantly less than the price one of his horses, not even counting the saddle. He wanted me to add something that had sentimental value, if only that, so he knew I’d do anything in my power to return.

With a heavy heart I offered up my most prized possession as collateral: the violin my mother had bought for me when I turned twelve.

It wasn’t an expensive violin, for she wouldn’t have been able to afford it, and it had been used thoroughly before it was even placed in my hands for the first time. But, besides it’s wonderful timbre, it was the only thing I had left of her, and I cherished it deeply.

Parting with it was like giving up a piece of one’s soul. The thought of Elijah’s striking smile, the only thing that could get me through the process of giving it up, if only temporary. I swore to myself, to the Lord and his Lady, and my mother’s soul in the heavens that I would come back for it.

They had believed me, and had a servant bring around a fully saddled horse. They even gave me some food and water for my journey. Which was not only thoughtful, but also very necessary since I only then realised I hadn’t had any breakfast, nor brought any supplies with me.

The horse was a medium-sized reddish-brown gelding that looked young and fast, but not too skittish for a slightly inexperienced rider like myself. I asked for his name, but the Lord told me he didn’t have any. I called him Presto in anticipation.

It took us the rest of the morning travelling over the worn forest road in pursuit of the caravan, before I changed his name to Allegro. And another couple of hours for me to decide that Andante was probably more befitting this wilful lazy beast.

I was getting closer to the caravan, though. I would clearly be within reach before nightfall, so I figured I needed to decide how to proceed when I caught up.

I needed to find Elijah first, and get him to safety, that much was clear to me. But making a plan was hard, since I had no idea of the situation I was going to encounter. Would Elijah be locked up? If so, where would they be keeping him? And if not, what manners of coercion were in place to ensure them he would do their bidding? Had they imprisoned a family member? Or were they blackmailing him? And if that was the case, what could I possibly do about that?

The nearer I got, the more questions filled my mind. And I would get no answers to any of them before I found my love. I could not ride up to the caravan and ask about, for I might accidentally encounter one of the people responsible. And they’d no doubt recognise me.

Even if I only ran into the mercenaries hired to guard the caravan from thieves, I could not be sure they were not hired by the same person that was behind Elijah’s disappearance. And if not, they might deem him responsible for the committed theft and bring him to justice, which was the last thing I wanted to happen.

No, the only way about this was to follow the caravan silently, wait for nightfall and sneak in to find Elijah, without attracting the attention of the guards.

I decided to follow the caravan at a distance I wouldn’t be noticed. Gaining on them until the horse excrements on the road was still visibly warm (I was relieved I could discern on this cold October day by using my sense of sight only), but backing off before I made visual contact with the caravan itself.

Came dusk I almost stumbled upon them making camp for the night. So, I quietly led Andante into the forest, and tried to gain a little on them though the forest edge. Convinced I would be at a safe distance to sneak up on the caravan on foot, I left the bay gelding with my belongings in a place I deemed safe, and proceeded stealthily towards the travellers.

My heart pounded in my throat, as I caught the first glimpse of a wagon. It looked old and sported a worn greenish layer of paint. I recognised it as a travel coach. There’d be cramped wooden bunks inside for at least twelve people willing to pay the fare. I had travelled with this type of arrangement before, though it left me with hardly any fond memories. Would Elijah be in there?

Just as I tried to get a better view, I noticed two armoured men carrying broadswords walk past. They were engaged in jolly banter, but clearly vigilant nonetheless. Guards. I pressed myself to the ground to avoid being noticed.

It took minutes of terrified stillness for me to dare raise my head again. The guards were out of sight, yet the view had changed in another sense as well. The drafter in front of the carriage had been released and I noticed a person standing on the other side of the large gray. I couldn’t clearly discern their features in the dark, but merely the fact that they were a certain height, made my heart jump in my throat.

I swiftly moved forward, my eyes trained on nothing but the slender figure behind the horse, straining to catch a glimpse of that person. It must be, had to be...