Page 108 of Keeper of the Word
The spade went to work.
Herry took the other spade and began digging, too.
When they stood in the hole up to their thighs, the other two took a turn. Digging and digging.
When ’twas clear that there was nothing here—no bodies—they moved some yards away and dug a second hole. Nothing. A third hole revealed the same.
Tolvar stuck the spade into the earth so it stood upright; he paced away to think.
No bodies.
Herry followed, his face grim in the moonlight. “M’lord, what can this mean?”
All a hoax.The hairs on his arms stood up.All a hoax.
“Nothing good. Let’s dig one more. To be certain.”
’Twas as if some madness drove Tolvar to dig the fourth hole. When he stood at the bottom, the hole’s top far above his head, his back and shoulders burning, his stomach plunged.
There was little time to waste.
“Help me out,” Tolvar said, grabbing Herry’s hand. When he stood on the field again, he assessed they probably had two hours until dawn.
“First task is to fill these holes. No one must suspect we’ve been here.” The three nodded, and two went to work, the spades moving quickly.
“And then?” Herry asked.
“I have no idea what is at play for these two here, but one thing is certain: we have been played for fools, and we need to find out what is afoot. When we’re finished here, return the way we came and check on the crack again before informing the others at camp what we’ve learned.”
“Aye, m’lord.”
“Lord Tolvar, you’d better see this,” Timth said from the edge of the hole he’d started to fill.
Tolvar and Herry stood next to him and peered into the hole. The piercing of black splitting through the bottom was faint, but they were all familiar with the signs now. The Curse of Adrienne.
Stars.
Greenwood wasn’t foolish enough totryto unbury the Curse of Adrienne. This, like the other, had to be an accident. It left naught of Greenwood’s deceit to the imagination.
“Keep burying it.”
“M’lord?”
“We cannot leave sign that we were here. We shall have to return and tell the Seers or…something. Later. Dawn comes, and we cannot be on this field. We are too exposed here.”
Dawn smirked across the field as they gathered their horses.
“Give Anscom’s camp a wide berth,” Tolvar commanded. “I shall meet you back at our camp in one hour’s time.”
“Aye, m’lord.” The three trotted off, taking the spades with them to leave on the edge of Turas’s camp. When the tools were discovered, someone would assume some page had been lazy.
Tolvar brushed off his clammy hands on the leg of his hose. King Rian needed to be informed of what occurred. Tolvar did not yet understand all the details, but ’twas certain there was a reason Greenwood had begged the sovereign for aid. A reason riddled in deception.
Tolvar cursed that there was no raven at his camp. Their messages had been going in and out from Lessio, which was a four-hour ride. That would have to do. Mayhap the village of Treehorn had one? That was closer. Bernwald would know for certain. Tolvar had to find him. Find out, once and for all, if Bernwald played a hand in all this. The sinking feeling deepened.
Chapter
Forty
