(Casting a<em>Somebody Else's Problem Field</em>? *grin*)<br/><br/>"Right," the three of them agree in unison. Once out of easy sight, just slightly down the hill, the women start leading their horses into a run. "Back, back to the city. We've got to warn them, slow down this army as best we can." "I don't think they could hold out against that, at Drellin's Ferry." "Nay, but we've got to warn them, at the very least. We've got to get there, and quick."