As we rode along I debated endlessly with myself over what I should name my stallion. I mumbled countless ideas to myself, but to no avail.
"Should I be concerned that my husband talks to himself? Susori asked with a playful tone to her voice.
I explained my predicament and she laughed out softly, "But he already has a name."
"He does! Well, what is it?"
"Phalon."
"Phalon. What does it mean?"
"First to the fight and the last to leave."
"Really!" I exclaimed.
She nodded, but there was a slight tilt to the side of her mouth that hinted at mirth. I was being had again!
"That's not what it means! Out with it. Be truthful now!"
She smiled and shrugged, "It sounded good."
I gave her a stern look and she rolled her eyes and said, "Phalon means, 'point of the spear.'"
Now that, I had to admit, was quite anti-climatic.
"Depending on the interpretation it can also mean, 'the point of no return.'"
I nodded. That fit better. In a way that described the current situation. Just up ahead of us lay the border of the northernmost nation of Ayenathurim, the Kingdom of Martz.
Little was known of it, even by Susori. It was said to be sparsely populated with virtually no regimented order to it. It was also where the headwaters of the Gargon River were located. The little that the Cronians had been able to discern as to where the monsters hid the children was that they went north, far north. The name of the river we headed for now suggested the area was known for its share of monsters in the earlier days of antiquity. It wasn't much of a lead, but it was something.
*****
As we rode through the sparse high country of Martz, I wished fervently that Susori was not along on this mission. Things might not end well and if we met with significant force our chances were slim at best. It wasn't to be helped though.
Twenty miles into the Kingdom of Martz, I called the order to make camp on a rocky promontory that looked like it could be defended. There would be no fire tonight.
A night without a fire at this altitude was not an easy thing to suffer through. As hard as I tried to produce extra heat and shelter from the chill wind that blew across these high plateaus at night, I couldn't manage to get Susori warm enough to stop shaking.
My arms already wrapped tightly around her, I whispered into her ear, "I'm sorry."
"It's nothing," she chattered back to me.