54
This Ain't Gonna Work
The day was reduced to an exhausting trek as Thomas slipped and staggered in the mud. It was worse once they joined the old Roman road that led south towards York. The ancient cobblestones were slick beneath his feet, and uneven. His shoulders were wrenched every time he slipped, and soon they screamed in pain.
They encountered more traffic on this road. Mainly people on foot, but some with mule or oxen-driven carts filled with shapeless bundles. All kept their heads down against the rain, giving Godric’s party a wide berth. The imposing figure of Daegmund on his warhorse, sword strapped to his side, prompted nods and knuckles to the forehead as they passed.
Thomas tried to put the pieces together to distract himself from the ache in his shoulders and the bruis
