Decisions
Exhaustion claimed Irenya long before it was convenient, and with the worst of the trek still to come. She plodded along in Holt’s wake, her feet like stones dangling from her ankles. Where the path narrowed, he held back any overhanging branches to avoid her being slapped in the face. Behind her, Gedric rhapsodised to Elaaron about the events of the day.
‘I will have the potters make hollow balls. About so,’ she heard him say. Had she been less weary she would have turned to see what size he was proposing. ‘Most impressive was the shattering of a narrow-necked pottery bowl. It broke along the lines of its honeycomb pattern and the pieces made excellent projectiles. I believe I may improve this by …’
Irenya tuned out. Not my business anymore. She wanted to forget the whole day
