Slowing down a bit as Victorio gained his feet, we cautiously wound our way eastward through an abandoned neighborhood, then south to the Makers' place.
I had spent the night tossing and turning, trying to think clearly, trying to remain rational. The Slavers weren’t going to kill another person I loved.
The entire party departed, heading north with their two original captives trotting behind the horses they were tied to in order to keep from being dragged.
Noah had returned with our visitors, but not for long. The night before Victorio, Frank and I were to escort them back home, he called for our attention.