Irene walked hurriedly, though kept herself from running; running would just draw more attention than she wanted.  She had seen the men turn left, but from that slim thread she hadn't gathered much more.  Hardpacked clay dirt that turned slick as snot when it rained hid evidence of recent passings.  Of course there were scuff marks and hoofprints, but it would take a native tracker to be able to tell which were the freshest.<br/><br/>She darted across a narrow opening between buildings, glancing down to see nothing more lethal than a low-slung clothesline.  They wouldn't have made it through there without being unseated, she realized and kept walking.