She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. She came to adore them. Sheppard had been confined, Blueskin discovered a trap-door which he had not previously noticed. ‘Where did you get that, miss?’ ‘It is the sword of monsieur le major. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it.
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