Donald was jerked awake by one of the children.  The child pointed at the gates, where a familiar figure was riding toward them mounted on her horse.  He shook his head to wake up and then doggedly ran toward the stables.  They would never catch her on foot.<br/><br/>While he was running, soldiers threw themselves in her path to stop her, only to be bowled over by her horse.  One suffered a broken leg under the hooves of her stead.  The gate was raising, but not quick enough to stop her from launching out of it, like a ball from a canon.<br/><br/>By the time he had saddled a horse and rode into the courtyard, a mess of clansmen and outlanders were already gathered.   The girl's father was red faced and yelling about how they had let his daughter escape.  He was demanding retribution on the guards assigned to her.  Personally, Donald rather thought it was his own fault if his daughter were so head strong.  He should look to himself for blame.<br/><br/>Donald rode out with twenty others, all headed in different directions to try to track the girl down.  Nathan found himself riding over the treeless moor, headed toward the Great Northern Forest.  His tiredness was forgotten, and he was focused on his task.  The honor of the clan was at stake.  He rode for some four hours, searching low and high, hoping to find the girl.  Finally, he entered the forest itself, a dense and dangerous place filled with evergreens and underbrush.  Going was slower here, but he persisted, moving deeper into the trees.