Chapter 112

“Take care of the bodies,” he growled at the nearest man who bobbed a quick bow and then turned to gather quite a few other men to do the Anmah’s bidding. The women who had watched the spectacle moved toward the villagers Frank had managed to simply render unconscious and started dragging them out of the middle of the road. Frank watched for a while, and then he sheathed his sword, spun on his heel, and entered the inn. Trudging up the stairs, he went to his room, pulled off his boots, and lay down on the bed to wait for morning.

Three days later, weary to his very bones, Frank spotted the red tiled roofs of Torkeln from a rise about five leagues north of the city. Since the incident in Sarat, the Anmah had avoided all contact with the few villages he had seen, preferring to sleep in the forest rather than be subjected to another night of fighting. He sighed in relief when he saw the city and pressed Klyar on as fast as the horse could carry him. When he finally reached the north gate