It was in the morning, a couple of hours from the sunrise. The work had been going on in full swing. And Jolthar had been overseeing everything along with Roblan.
Right now, Jolthar stood in the tent, his sharp eyes scanning the words on the letter in his hand. The bright light from the outside cast shadows on the canvas walls, adding a heavy atmosphere to the already tense situation.
He was standing before the table with the map of the whole barony and areas around.
Roblan and Nora stood beside him, both clearly unsettled. They came as soon as they heard about the letter.
On the table, another letter lay untouched, yet its presence loomed over them like an unsolved mystery.
The one in his hand, the wax seal, had been broken, revealing Cleora's elegant script. It was from Cleora, and they received it today in the early morning. Her usual confidence and authority were still present in her words, but there was a tension in the way she had written them.
