CHAPTER SIX
Krommel, the scribe, was pulling his head back inside when Asphodel stepped into the light cast by his window.
“Asphodel.” He gasped. “What are you doing here at this time of night? Wait, I’ll be down in a sec.”
After no more than halfa minute, the door opened and Krommel beckoned the girl inside. She looked around before entering the room where they did the copying every day, then rushed through the door. Krommel closed it quickly and led her upstairs to where his family lived.
As soon as she entered the room, Krommel’s wife, a plump woman of around forty years of age, noticed her bruises.
“Oh, my dear, what happened? Let me tend your injuries. Sit over there.”
She shooed a curious boy and two little girls away while she bustled around, finding a cloth and some herbs to
