Kingdom of Ash

stead.
The thought alone kept Elide astride her
mare. Those few days had been made slightly
easier by the clean strips of linen that Gavriel
and Rowan provided, undoubtedly from their
own shirts. When they’d cut them up, she had
no idea.
Elide bit into the apple, savoring the sweet,
tart crispness. Rowan had left some coppers
from a rapidly dwindling supply on a stump to
account for the fruit they’d taken.
Soon they’d have to steal their suppers. Or
sell their horses.
A thumping sounded from behind the
sealed windows a level above, punctuated
with muffled male shouting.
“Do you think we’ll have better luck this
time?” Elide quietly asked.
Gavriel studied the blue-painted shutters,
carved in an intricate latticework. “I have to