For a long moment, all five men stared in shock at the figure on the floor. Finally, though, Einarr was able to focus on her face.
“That’s not Runa.”
Barri and Bollinn blinked, looking harder. Sivid shrugged, as though trying to rid himself of a weight.
“…Are ye sure?” Jorir ventured to ask, even his voice hesitant.
Einarr didn’t answer, merely stepped forward to take the poor woman by her shoulders and roll her over on her back. With the hem of one of her sleeves he wiped the blood from her face. The unfortunate woman would have been thirty if she were a day, and her face would have been long even if her ordeal had not rendered it haggard.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Moisture glistened on Barri’s cheeks. “Thank the gods.”
Einarr started to nod, then noticed the pendant that showed through a rent in her bodice. Carefully, trying…
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