They stopped the horses only when the watery light of dawn spread over the land, pulling up by a little stream that meandered through the forest. The horses nosed eagerly at the water and Sandor dropped off Stranger and dragged him back, swearing and striking at the other animals. "They're too hot to drink yet! Don't any of you know anything about horses?"
Arya jumped down and between her and the Hound they managed to get the horses tied up and unsaddled. Sansa and Brienne and Podrick twisted clumps of grass and rubbed down the weary mounts, and after they were done, Arya took them one at a time to the water to drink, then hobbled them with Podrick's help so they could graze.
Sandor sat with his back against a tree, watching sourly as his companions tended the horses. "I would have thought by now you would all know how to care for horses better than that."
"Don't be so cranky," said Arya. "You act like you're the greatest expert in the world."
"I know enough not to let horses drink when they're hot," he grumbled.
"And how many years did it take for you to master that information?" she shot back.
His jaw tightened, then relaxed as Sansa knelt next to him, a bowl of water and a cloth in her hands. "And what do you want?"
"To clean away this blood." She started to sponge his face and he put up a hand.
"It's all right. It looks worse than it is."
"It looks horrible." She continued to work at the dried blood and he resigned himself to her ministrations. Arya came over and looked closely at the wound on his forehead, then went for a small pack on her saddle and came over with needle and thread.
The Hound glared at her. "I don't need stitches!"
"Yes, you do," said Arya. "Now hold still."
"You really do, Sandor," said Sansa.
Brienne and Podrick came over and the blonde woman bent down. "I think that could use a couple of stitches."
Sandor looked up at Podrick. "Don't you want a vote too?"
Podrick shuffled his feet. "Actually, it's better to be safe than sorry. That is a nasty cut."
The Hound was about to erupt but the sight of Sansa's strained expression reminded him of the night before and the sight of her with a bloody knife and he sighed. If fussing over him would distract her from the thought of the man she had killed, so be it. "Fine, get on with it. Sansa, you should do something about your clothes."
She looked down at herself, blushed deeply, and hurried over to the pile of supplies, pulling out a tunic and a pair of pants. She went behind a bush to change, calling, "How did you get caught? Were they looking for us?"
"I don't think so," said Podrick, watching in fascination as Arya stitched up Sandor's forehead. He winced every time the needle went in but otherwise he was motionless. "Remember what good luck we had fishing?"
Sansa came out from behind the bush. "I wish we had those fish now."
Podrick sounded grimly amused. "It's something to keep in mind for the future. I never thought of it before, but good fishing spots are likely to be well known to everyone within ten miles. Those men were castle guards who knew about the reward on Sandor, but they weren't looking for us. They just happened across us on their way to that same place."
Sansa sat down next to Sandor. "You mean we can't fish any more?"
"We'll just have to be a lot more careful," said Brienne. "Scout ahead, and since I'm no good at fishing, I could stand guard." She and Podrick sat down across from Sandor. "They were upon us just as we finished unsaddling the horses and they had Podrick and me down before we even saw them."
"I was across the clearing and I barely had time to get my sword up," said the Hound. "I did for two of them but another one caught me across the head and that's the last thing I remember until I woke up in the castle."
Arya put in a last stitch and took out a small box. "Now for a little of that ointment Morwen gave me to keep this from getting infected…" She dabbed the wound and finished by tying a bandage on the Hound's head, then sat back to admire her handiwork. "Not bad if I do say so myself."
"Except for the smell," said Sandor crossly.
"You don't want to get sick again, do you?" asked Arya, her expression stern. He subsided and she looked at him with concern. "We heard they sent word to Littlefinger about capturing you."
He sighed. "They told us as much. Looks like you'll get your wish, Brienne."
The blonde woman frowned. "What wish?"
"They'll be after us now harder than ever and the only direction we can hope to escape is to the south, right through the Crownlands. No one would ever guess we'd take that direction but now we'll have to risk it."