Adventure of Frieda 1

The higher track bites into the hill, narrow as a goat path. Below, the monastery walls drop away into pale stone and mist. Ahead, Sir Eleutherius raises one hand and slows the climb.

Frieda reaches the bend in time to see it too, dark figures cutting across the skyline above the river slope. One carries a spear, another a lantern hooded against the wind. The witnesses huddle close behind her, breathing hard.

Sir Eleutherius shifts aside, giving Frieda a clear line to the road beyond the monastery grounds. The upper path leads straight toward the Inquisitor’s road, if she can pass this crest unseen. Behind them, the crypt exit is already too far to retreat to safely.

At her choice, the group presses into the scrub and broken rock, using the slope as cover. The Bishop’s men remain above, but the road ahead is open for a fast descent if Frieda can hold her nerve and keep the witnesses together.

Frieda slips into the scrub, keeping her ledger tucked close as she and the witnesses angle below the ridge line. The road is still out of sight, but the men above are now just broken silhouettes against the sky.

He falls back a half-step, sword loose at his side, while Frieda leads the others through a notch of stone where the brush swallows their shapes.

The Lantern Boy freezes at the edge of the path, lantern hood pressed tight, then turns his face away from the ridge as the searchers pass above without looking down.

Matthis crouches beside a flake of rock, then rises only when Frieda has moved ahead, guiding the line of travelers past him in silence.

Below, the monastery wall drops away, and the higher track opens toward the main road at last, clear enough to cross if they choose to break cover.

Frieda stills at the lip of the brush and looks out. The main road lies below in a pale strip of stone, and there are riders on it.

A cart creaks past them, its driver hunched low under a cloak, while one mounted man lingers behind, turning his head toward the monastery slope.

Frieda spots a ribbon of trampled verge beside the road, empty for the moment, but the rider’s glance catches on the hillside brush.

The ledger shifts under Frieda’s arm as she leans back into the scrub. A sharp stone bites her sleeve, and a few loose pebbles skitter downslope, whispering into the open.

Frieda lets the smallest stone slip from her fingers. It drops cleanly over the verge and begins to tick down the slope, out of sight of the road.

Below, one rider turns hard in the saddle toward the sound. The cart keeps rolling, but the mounted man raises a hand and points downhill.

Sir Eleutherius shifts at once, using the moment. He steps into the brush line and opens a gap beside the rock.

Matthis flattens lower, eyes fixed on the road. The Witness tightens his grip on the ledger's edge under Frieda's arm.

The Lantern Boy goes still with the hooded lantern hugged close, the cloth over it barely stirring.

The rider leans out to stare into the brush, but the distraction holds. Frieda has her opening, though the pebble's faint rattle has bought only a breath of time.

Frieda slips from the brush line and drops low against the stones. Her ledger stays tight beneath one arm as she lets the slope hide her movement from the road.

Below, the rider still scans the verge, but his gaze stays fixed on the pebbled track, not on the empty patch Frieda has already left behind.

Sir Eleutherius holds the gap open only long enough for the last of the group to vanish from the roadside view, then eases back into cover.

Frieda crosses the road in a low, quick dash, boots silent on the hard earth. The cart rolls on without slowing.

She reaches the far bank of the track and folds into the opposite brush, the witnesses and ledger following her line by line.

Behind them, the rider looks once more, finds only the empty verge, and turns his horse away as the opening closes.