The Black Beast
“After a week he came back to Qiturel, but then there were more days of preparation before we could march. I fumed; I sometimes thought I could feel smoke curling out of my ears. Oorossy went about his affairs, whistling maddeningly. At last all was ready. I mounted my black charger, Frain and Fabron the horses Oorossy had given them. Grandfather was not coming with us, but he would not stay safe in Qiturel either, stubborn old man!
“I was roaming Vale before you were born, young my precious lord!” he argued perversely.
He would not have said that a few months before, I am sure. He intended to come along behind us at his own pace, and in spite of all my ire I knew he would be all right. The black beast stayed with him. I still remember looking back and seeing the pair of them ambling along side by side far behind us, he with his staff in one hand and the other on a black glossy back.
We took five hundred men to Melior—a laughable force, a pathetic force compared to Abas’s thousands.
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