For a moment, Erling wondered if the knights across the creek would defy him even now. He could see the young squires staring at the elk with long faces as their frustration at the elk's escape mounted.
"Turn south," Sir Franc ordered, though the expression on his face was sour. "It's too dangerous to cross the rapids here."
"But…" Riwall started to protest until Sir Franc cut him off.
"We have no choice, my lord," Sir Franc said, swallowing his frustration down in order to placate the grandson of Baron Preden Saliou. "Right now, we're out of the hunt. Our best chance of getting back into the hunt is to turn north or south and cross somewhere other than the rapids. South puts us closer to Lord Owain. So long as Baron Fayle doesn't try to claim the kill for himself, he'll drive the elk right to us."
"The Coward Baron?" Riwall scoffed. "He wouldn't dare!"
