“The Undying hurt someone,” Aylin said, “an older woman. People are complaining.”
The familiar dread came back. Undying didn’t care for those who complained.
“Keep Nya between us,” said Danello, slipping out. “Less chance of her being spotted that way.”
We stayed close to the buildings and out of the yellow circles of the streetlamps. The marsh folks were gathered in front of the traveller’s house, yelling and shaking their fists.
A woman cried out, and the crowd parted not far ahead. Soldiers emerged, their eyes scanning faces as they passed. Behind the soldiers, an Undying. Danello and Aylin closed tighter around me.
“Everyone line up over there,” the Undying said, pointing against the side of the market building.
“We don’t have to listen to you,” one man shouted.
The Undying drew his sword and marched towards him. The man held his ground, but apprehension flickered across his face.
“You’ll move, now,” the Undying said.
“I’ll move when someone who isn’t eating from the Duke’s table asks me.”
The Undying backhanded him, sending him flying into the crowd. People screamed, some shouted, others charged the Undying. He braced himself but toppled under the surge of bodies.
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