โ Scribed by Cronshaw, Jon
No coin nor oath required. For personal study only.
Rope squeezed tight around Kat's wrists, the bonds jarring her shoulders and jerking her forward with stumbling, shambling steps. The sack on her head muffled the sounds of the cart's wheels rolling along the Kusten Road. Each of her breaths came warm against her face as dots of light broke through the blackness and flickered against her retinas. Her sabretache still hung from her shoulder. This was not a robbery.
What did this man want? He had not bothered to search her for weapons or coin. Where was he taking her?
Was this something to do with the murder she had dreamed about, the man turning to a burned shell at her feet?
Every question she had tried to ask her captor was met with silence or hostility.
She wondered whether it would be better to close to her eyes and focus on her other senses. Or should she wait for the right moment to strike?
The Feuerschwert's whispers filled her mind. Where did they come from? Was she going mad?
Her wrists jerked again, the rope rubbing against her raw flesh. She scrunched her nose as she caught the whiff of her own armpits.
She hoped Dash had managed to find her way home. Would Markell believe her if she explained what happened?
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