They traveled for several more minutes in silence.
“Stop here,” Cark suddenly ordered.
The Oathtaker pulled the wagon to the side of the road where he stopped at the edge of a prairie. Then the men lumbered down.
“Stay here,” Cark ordered. “We’ll be a while.” He started off, then turned back. “Oh, and I advise you to ignore her,” he said, motioning toward his wife.
Marshall watched the men walk into the meadow. He surmised that Cark chose this spot so that he could go a distance to speak privately with Grik while still keeping an eye on Chaya. Fortunately, it also meant that Marshall could keep watch on the men. Unfortunately, they stood too far away for him to pick anything up from their conversation, despite his attendant magic that enhanced his ability to hear things from long distances.
When certain they were sufficiently far away, he spoke. “Why do you challenge him as you do?” Glancing in Chaya’s direction, he discovered that she’d pulled her shroud from her face. On sight of her, he froze. But for the massive bruise on one side of her face, she was the most exquisite creature he had ever seen. Her ebony hair, cut short around her ears and at the nape of her neck, glistened. Her butterscotch skin shone. But it was her eyes, the color of a bluebird, that when she turned his way, took his breath away. They seemed to spring out from their surrounding darkness, catching him by surprise.
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