The horses stood limp and trembling, as powerless as himself.
Their punishment did not last long.

The hail got thinner and the lumps smaller; the roar diminished and Festing heard it recede across the plain.

The wind was still savage, but it was falling, and the thunder sounded farther off.

There was a savage downpour of drenching rain, and when this moderated he pulled himself together, and turning the horses, resumed his journey.

He was wet to the skin, his shoulders were sore, and his face and hands were bruised and cut.