Chapter III, Reading 8

Flindra was well equipped for her journey. She wore a dark green tunic that was lined with soft woolen fleece. Her brown trousers were made of thick wool cloth that had been boiled before the garment was made. Stout leather boots protected her feet and lower legs. A fur-lined cloak in the same dark green as her tunic added more warmth. In addition, the dark green blended well with the background of the forest.
Leudh had given her a fine yew bow and a quiver of arrows as a parting gift. Both her father and Leudh had spent a great deal of time instructing her in the art of archery. Over the years, she had developed an unerring accuracy with the weapon and was quite capable of defending herself with it.
They had taught her to use a knife effectively as well, both in a fight and as a throwing weapon. Flindra had several daggers hidden in her clothing - one in her boot, another in a sheath suspended by a cord and hanging between her shoulder blades, and a third tucked into her belt.
Flindra stopped her gelding for a brief rest. She still had about an hour of daylight left and she needed to find a place to camp. Dismounting, she stroked the horse's neck as they both rested.
"Well old friend, I'm afraid you won't see any more warm and dry barns for a while. Your rations might be a little short, too. I'm sorry to bring you with me, but I need you."
The horse turned his ears toward her as she talked. He was a mountain horse, somewhat small as horses go but incredibly sure-footed. He used to be all black, but now there was a sprinkling of gray in his coat.
Eghero had given him to her as a girl. Flindra still remembered the day when he gave the gelding to her. His familiar tones echoed in her mind as she recalled his words.
"Take care of this horse and he will always serve you well. He is not the swiftest but he will never tire and his feet will always be sure."
She had named him Deru, which in the Old Tongue meant steadfast.