The Woven Crown (Completed)

Chapter 6

Ryla watched through a slit in Thistle's faded curtains as the stone walls of Greyheights loomed in the distance. The estate lay close to the western border of the kingdom and had the closest proximity to the Tapestry out of all the estates in Religo. It was the property of Lord and Lady Courtois who had been guests at Wightmanstry on occasion. She was excited to see what sort of people lived and worked here, but so far, not much was different. The same well-worn muddy road led up to a familiar-looking gate set into a stone wall. The only variance was in the stone used to build the estate. While Wightmanstry's was made from gray stone streaked black from age, Greyheights was made from a dark green material that gave the appearance of being covered with moss.

They had given Ryla her instructions that morning. She was to stay inside the wagon until nightfall and even then only to use the privy. Without her birth papers, there was no guarantee of safety if she was spotted. Graphiel had shown her a concealed compartment hidden in Thistle's wagon in case it became necessary for her to hide.

It was ingenious. From the outside Ryla couldn't tell that there was extra space below the floorboards, just large enough to fit a person. The opening itself blended right into the wooden floor and was covered with a tattered rug. As for opening it, what looked like an ordinary coin kept in a drawer was actually the "key" to the compartment. A normal coin was too thick to wedge into the crack and lift the door, but this one had been made especially by Willem to have an inconspicuously smaller width. As they rode along, Ryla would open the drawer every now and then to check that the coin was still there.

Sighing, she let the curtain drop. She took up her spot curled up on Thistle's bed. It was much easier on her stomach to be seated while the wagon was in motion.

When they were almost to the wall, Ryla heard three quick taps on the side of the wagon- her signal to hide. Ryla jumped up from the bed and snatched the coin from its drawer. She kicked the rug aside and wiggled the coin into the crack Graphiel had shown her. It came open with ease. Ryla replaced the coin and, pulling the rug back over the door, she lowered herself in and let the door and rug snap closed.

She felt the wagon come to a stop when they reached the gates. Through the small gaps between the wooden slats, Ryla could hear Graphiel exchanging a few words with the guards stationed there.

"We'll be needing to search your wagons. There's been someone killed up at Wightmanstry and the criminal is still on the loose." His voice sounded young, not much older than Ryla.

"A murder you say?" said Graphiel with feigned surprise. "These are hard days to be sure, but don't worry, we've checked our belongings carefully ourselves, so there's really no need. We'll keep our eyes open for anyone suspicious all the same."

There was a heavy pause and then, "I'm sorry but we've had our orders. We'll make it quick." Ryla's heart thudded against the walls of her chest. She hadn't expected the guards to be so forward with the Caravan. She held as still as possible, waiting for the guards to enter the wagon, but before they could she heard Graphiel speak again, an edge to his voice.

"We, sir, have our orders as well. From the Prestige." There was another heavy pause. "Now, the rain has already made us late and we need to get set up. I'd hate to have to tell the Prestige the reason we couldn't make it to our annual meeting was because some imbecile of a guard thought himself so important that he needed to search the Prestige's own Caravan."

Another voice, older and gruffer spoke. "What's this then?"

The younger man was audibly shaken. "I was just searching the folk as they were coming through, jus' like you said." He sounded much less sure of himself now.