on the run

Adrenaline carried her as far as the village and abruptly failed to hold her up. Mirian stumbled and nearly fell in the doorway of an inn. The streets were busy and no one paid her much mind, but she could hear hoofbeats―riders coming―Borden’s men tracking her down. She pulled her shawl over her head, low so that she sat almost cowled as her eyes searched the street for danger.

They were there. Riders, three of them. Whether they were mercenaries or no she couldn’t tell, but she forced her eyes down until their shadows fell across her. They stopped.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three of Taerith has been posted. Come, read, comment.