The Woven Crown (Completed)

Chapter 4

Breakfast came to an end and crew members stowed away their supplies, leaving seats around the now quenched fire. Rhid stayed seated next to her pointing out the names of each of the crew members.

"That one over there with the arms as wide as trunks, that's Willem, the blacksmith. The twins are Dhavlin and Danelle. They stick to themselves, mostly. The old goat's name is Graphiel."

"I heard that!" shot the storyteller as he came to take a seat next to the tailor, called Firdas.

One by one the crew sat or stood around the circle. It was plain that now breakfast was over, it was time to decide her fate. Ryla waited awkwardly, hands in her lap. She had to convince them to at least not take her back. She would rather be left in the woods than be taken back to face what waited her there, despite Rhid's talk.

The woman fire-dancer was the last to join the circle. The hair around her face had escaped her braid and stuck with sweat to her forehead. She stood beside Rhid and gave Ryla a curious and calculated stare. "You should have been practicing this morning," she whispered to Rhid.

"What? And miss welcoming our lovely guest after the poor job I did of it last night?" Rhid said, looking innocent. "Besides, I like eating breakfast."

Thistle stood behind Ryla, arms folded. Everyone turned to look at her. "You've all been told about last night's occurances," Thistle spoke in the same loud voice she used when speaking to crowds, one that demanded to be heard.

"We need to come to a decision about what to do with the girl here," she placed a warm, weathered hand on Ryla's shoulder. "We can take her back to Wightmanstry where she will most certainly face punishment for not only running away, but also for ruining the gown of a certain high lady." Here a few people snickered and the tailor raised his eyebrows. Ryla wondered if he was upset about the gown. "Or, we could take her onto Greyheights with us."

Ryla didn't like being the subject of scrutiny. She wasn't used to being anyone's center of attention, except as a target for Gretha's foul moods.

Firdas spoke up. "We don't have time to waste going all the way back to Wightmanstry."

"Yes, but she's none of our business," the fire dancer behind Rhid began. "If someone finds out we helped her escape, it could bode ill for us." Ryla stared anxiously at her lap, a cold sweat beginning to dampen her brow.

"We're not exactly strangers to a little deception, Sahana," said Graphiel, the storyteller. Thistle gave him a pointed stare.

"We could give her enough supplies to find her way on her own," suggested Dhavlin, not unkindly.

"She'll find her way on her own all right- right into a nest of vakrin," said Rhid with a smile. Thistle gave him a quick smack across the back of his head.

"Ow! I was just being realistic!" Rhid rubbed his head, making the hair stand up in the back.

"I think it's too dangerous even a day away from Wightmansry" said Thistle. "I would let the girl continue to bed in my wagon. We can let her out discreetly once we reach Greyheights."

Ryla saw a chance to tip the debate in her favor so she steeled herself to speak in the midst of all their gazes.

"I'm no stranger to work. I could help out to earn my keep. And I promise not to let anyone know you've helped me." She looked up at Sahana and held her breath.

"As long as you don't try to help me with any of the gowns I'm making," said the tailor. Everyone broke into laughter.

"Right then, is everyone settled with that plan?" asked Thistle.