Morena leaned her back to the wall, hood lowered, listening for every creak of timber outside. Yet all she heard was the singing of bugs and the brushing of wind, nothing else; no one was even close to the granary due to its obscure location.
This worked out in their favor because it meant they could avoid as many eyes as possible.
Hark had not yet returned, which meant Adolf was still moving on her word. She trusted the man to act quickly, as the longer he took, the more danger they could run into.
For every second that passed, the risk to the man's life and her own would only rise.
The clerk sat slumped near the corner, knees drawn, his bandages damp and foul-smelling. His eyes flicked toward her every so often, wide and restless, but he never dared speak.
The memory of the pill forced down his throat still clung to him; he hadn't stopped swallowing, as though the motion alone might keep the poison from settling in his belly.
