Andrew could almost feel the chill of Cheryl’s hostility towards him. He reached out and gingerly put a hand on her shoulder. She screamed, and her arms flailed violently as she thrashed herself away from his touch. Her Pashmina caught the glass on the worktop behind her and it fell to the floor, smashing into hundreds of twinkling shards. The noise of the breaking glass jolted her out of her terror, and she sank to the floor and scrabbled around picking up the remains of the broken item. “Let me do that, you’ll cut yourself.” Andrew murmured gently as he bent down beside her. She whimpered softly and moved out of his way as he set about tidying the debris. Once the last of the glass was removed, Andrew stood up and looked at Cheryl, concern shadowing his brown eyes. “Coffee?” he asked. She nodded, no longer looking at him, in fact now making a concerted effort to avoid his gaze in her shame. He boiled the kettle and got out two mugs. “Milk?” Cheryl nodded again. “Sugar?” This time. Once down into the grasses of the plain, they turned southeast and hugged the mountains as they travelled in that direction, curling further south as the miles went by. While both riders remained vigilant, neither detected any sign of Herald patrols, nor the tell-tale sight or smell of smoke from a campfire. Sylvia was quick enough with a sling to land a rabbit just after midday, and she hung it triumphantly on the back of her saddle for dinner. When twilight arrived, her keen eyes spotted a suitable campsite, and she led them a short distance uphill to the west, where a convenient hollow lay nestled among the hills.It had been a long day in the saddle, and Erik was looking forward to some food and rest. They roasted the rabbit over the fire and ate eagerly; it had been a long time since either of them had enjoyed roasted meat of any kind. Stomachs full, they sat back and talked and laughed, and Erik began to feel more at ease than he had in weeks.He got some rest eventually, but not.
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