Knight Exiled by Tammy Salyer

Author:Tammy Salyer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tammy Salyer

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Widin peered at her through wrinkled eyelids that sagged so heavily she was surprised he could see. His eyebrows were unusually long and their edges dangled nearly to his cheekbones. His long ears were equally stretched, giving him the look of a wax sculpture that was in the process of melting. Symvalline had plenty of time to get a good look at him as he examined her with all the focus of an alchemist mixing ingredients that might very well explode in his face.

Unsure what had passed between him and Agatha, Symvalline began, “I’m—”

“No, no need. We’ll help you,” he cut in, then spun back around abruptly and fetched the handcart she was intended to hide within.

She looked to Agatha with questions in her eyes, and the woman said, “He’s agreed to help. You don’t need to worry about him.”

The old man reentered, pushing a wide, tall-sided cart. His chest beneath his black robes was sunken, and he was hunched forward like a letter C. Symvalline was astonished he’d been given the laborious task of transporting the dead, but then, punishments for breaking taboos weren’t meant to be easy, she supposed.

In moments, she and the unfortunate soldier lay side by side under a shroud. Being pushed along stone floors in a wooden cart wasn’t a smooth ride. But it didn’t need to be for the dead. Symvalline felt each bounce and bump as Agatha and Widin drew her through Everlight Hall, but she gritted her teeth and endured. She’d have willingly suffered a hundred times rougher treatment if it would have meant they’d make the trip faster. She felt every moment tick past slower than eternity.

Twice, her coconspirators stopped the cart and spoke to others to request assistance in bringing it down sets of stairs. The suffering Symvalline felt with each jolting stairstep was nothing compared to the fear that she would be found.

By some miracle, she was not discovered. When she felt the warmth of their daystar beam down onto the dark shroud, she began to breathe just a bit easier. After some time, where the jouncing of the cart grew worse as whatever path they were leading her down grew rougher, they finally stopped.

There was a moment of stillness to let Symvalline’s anxious anticipation breed anew, then a gentle tug on the shroud.

“It’s okay,” Agatha whispered. “We’ve reached the barrows. You can let go.”

She hadn’t realized she was clutching the shroud around her face in a death grip and forced her fingers to relax. Agatha peeled it back, and Symvalline was hit with a sharp breeze of cooler air. She sat up and looked around.

They were northeast of Everlight Hall inside a steep-walled ravine. The mountain it led into formed a natural barrier to Minoth Valley. The wind blowing into the ravine was harsh and biting, and made a haunting sound as it flurried into a simple granite post and lintel entryway leading directly into a dark cave beside the cart.

This must be the barrows. It was clear now to Symvalline why the Minothians kept their dead here.

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