FOURTEEN
For the first few days, Molina and Lubos rode together on the same palfrey, sometimes with her before him and sometimes behind. They made slow progress, for he stopped often to relieve himself, or so he said. More than once, she'd had to wait for him for some time while he disappeared into the woods, and she grew suspicious, for he drank no more than she did.
On the third morning, he procured a second palfrey from the inn, which he insisted was her new mount, and she was so busy managing the fine-looking but ill-tempered horse she paid little attention to what Lubos did, though it seemed to her he stopped less frequently.
The evenings did not change, though. Especially the ones they spent in the woods, between inns. At least, not until they travelled further north, where the
