At long last, a party of five rode forth from Corus on the southern road, heading to Goldenlake.  Their saddlebags were light; it was only a few days' journey, and many of them didn't travel with much.  Still, if they wanted to keep their horses in good condition, they had to pace themselves.  That's why Sal kept at a canter, keeping his mount at a good pace without exhausting her.  He could tell she was a good mare, strong and well-winded, but he didn't want to rely on her too much early on; it's not like she was his personal warhorse, as yet.  She would, however, easily get him where he needed to be.<br/><br/>It was the mission itself that brought Sal more troublesome thoughts.  On their way to Goldenlake to look up an old friend of Miss Lucrecia's and see if he could tell them anything about Twilight; that seemed like a fool's errand, really, or the kind of deep background you might hire a lackey to obtain.  Still, if he could still trust his intuition with these Gifts getting in the way, he had to admit, it<i>felt</i>like the right thing to do.  Maybe they would be able to follow up on any leads that came from there right away.  He hoped there would be something; he'd hate to take all this time away from Corus for nothing.<br/><br/>They rode down through the foothills, away from the city built around the mountainside.  Below them were rocky hills and densely wooded passes.  They could take the long, safe, broadly established way around, all wide avenues and comfortable inns, and travel for a week or so with the caravans and traders and farmers, or they could take shortcuts through the forests and barely-developed land, run the risk of running into bandits and wild creatures and half-crazy inbred hillbillies, but shave many days off their travel time.  Sal was clearly going to put it to a vote at the first chance they took to rest their horses, but he felt sure everyone would choose speed over boring safety.  After all, it was pretty clear time was of the essence, and they certainly could handle themselves...