I glanced at Bevan, wondering what he was thinking about. I was thinking about the city. As always I wondered what it held that could be so dangerous, so forbidden.
Bevan looked up to meet my gaze, and smiled.
“We’ll never know Astrid,” he said with silent amusement. “They don’t want us to know.”
“I will know,” I said stubbornly.
The village was quiet this early in the morning. Inhabitants of Sage Barrow never stepped out of their houses until the sun has fully risen. We were late today. The dawn light played merrily on the thatched roofs of Sage barrow. A few chickens clucked by on the dirt road, scrounging the ground for dropped seeds. Yew trees lined the path and little flowerbeds were set beside it.
I knew Diya would scold and give me a speech for being out before dawn, but a much worse punishment was in store for Bevan. His father was a retired warrior. He was formidable and strict, only popular for his former glory. These days you could only see him at night, skulking around in the village tavern.
I felt guilty, knowing the fault was mine, but he’d pay the price.
As we neared my house I saw his eyes grow weary. I wanted to give him a word of comfort, but I didn’t know what to say.
“Well, bye then,” he said, a shade of resentment in his eyes.
“See you at association,” I said, giving a feeble wave as he walked down the dirt path to his house.
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