CHAPTER 11
As they mounted up at the stables, George saw Isolda waiting atop a large open carriage quickly filling with her father and several of the kennel staff he recognized. Others were piling in as he watched. They were uniformly attired in more formal clothing than he had seen before, with dark red coats and weskits and buckskin breeches. Some had families with them, the wives and daughters in dark red skirts. These lutins had probably known Iolo all their lives, George realized, and now he was gone.
A few lutins were mounted, but there were more than could fit in one carriage, and he saw that the other drivers were not lutins. Isolda showed no discomfort among her peers, and George nodded encouragingly at her across the distance, bringing a smile to her face.
He walked Mosby over
