The Girl from the North (Pathway of the Chosen Book 1)
Page 47
The Islander was not a small woman, full-hipped and full-breasted, yet Caryss had thrown her as if she was a child’s doll, with little effort it had seemed. Another gift from the High Lord, he thought. He would question her later, Aldric decided, turning his attention back to the ward, weaving the swirling air around him tighter.
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The woman eyed Caryss suspiciously, letting her nearly black eyes, thickly lashed and outlined in thick kohl, trace Caryss’s own light eyes. Then the woman’s gaze traveled to Caryss’s belt, where several pouches hung.
Pointing, she said in heavily accented Common, “What is it that you carry there?”
“Ointments and the like. A few tools that I need when I heal.”
“Child, I do not mean to ask what is in your bags. You carry something far more important, do you not?”
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