He followed the paladins out of the ward, through the gates, and out into the night, riding as hard as they dared in the dark and inclement weather. The horse he road was nothing like the terrifying monster with which he had been forced to learn riding, a horse that had thrown him so many times Koray wondered that he was still alive. After that long bought of misery, he had threatened to leave necromancy behind forever if he was put on a horse one more time. It was not as though there was much point to the lessons, anyway; necromancers could hardly afford to keep horses.
They rode until it grew too dark to travel and bedded down in the creaky, musty barn of a tired farmer. Koray tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes he just saw Sorin's haunted face and poor Angelos spread across his own desk with his head only barely attached to his body.