"Boy," David said, pointing. "That's not our horse." "Of course it isn't," Allan said, coming out from the inn with a wide stretch and a yawn. "It's mine." "Christ Almighty." David sighed. "I thought we got rid of you." "You don't mean that for a moment," Allan said, mounting his horse. "Besides, did you really think to go to Ireland without one of her favorite native sons?" "Clearly a foolish hope," David muttered, mounting as well. I swung up onto the horse, feeling my body ache as my muscles settled into place. "Play nice, boys."