"They only obeyed orders," said Karlos. "She had to order them to get out of her way when they finished their last command." "Let's see if those skeletons were typical of the type, then," said Ciara. "Or perhaps she ordered them to guard the way." She strode to the doorway.
The forest thickened. Trees towered, with thickets of ferns below and moss emerald green in great masses on their trunks. Ancient trees that blocked out the sunlight. They had to have grown before the necromancer had come here. Unless, perhaps, the necromancer had grown them. His step faltered. A necromancer had grown that orchard. A wizened, scraggly thing it had been, he reminded himself. He had been taller than some trees. A breeze was cold and wet on his neck. Perhaps he knew that most necromancers did not grow trees, but he did not know that that orchard was typical of those that did. He looked up. Perhaps the work of the other necromancers had stunted the orchard, and these could be grown in a fortnight. He shivered and shrugged it off. The villagers would not confide in a stranger. He still had to stop what the king would not.
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"Let's see if those skeletons were typical of the type, then," said Ciara. "Or perhaps she ordered them to guard the way." She strode to the doorway.
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Sprue swallowed hard against that sinking feeling. He was going to be spending the weekend re-doing the assignment until he got it right.
And I'd had such fun plans for this weekend.
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A wizened, scraggly thing it had been, he reminded himself. He had been taller than some trees.
A breeze was cold and wet on his neck. Perhaps he knew that most necromancers did not grow trees, but he did not know that that orchard was typical of those that did. He looked up. Perhaps the work of the other necromancers had stunted the orchard, and these could be grown in a fortnight.
He shivered and shrugged it off. The villagers would not confide in a stranger. He still had to stop what the king would not.