With the last of the dirt heaved upon the grave, the mound of fresh earth looked like a brown scar on the green field. Vilon lingered there for a long moment, leaning on the shovel as the finality of it all finally settled into his bones.
"I thank you all for your consideration," he said, turning back to them with a weary smile that held more sorrow than relief. "I truly do not know what I would have done had I not met you."
"Probably stood there until the moon came up," Lorry muttered, squinting at the sun as it sat like a pale, bruised eye behind the grey clouds. "Your Grace, we really cannot linger. They will be sending out watch parties soon, and next time, I fear you won't be given such a long leash. Regardless of what the scouts say, we are still at war. The Oizenian host was broken, yes, but the scavengers and the deserters are the ones who truly haunt the roads.This is not Yarzat. The road are not safe."
