CHAPTER 16
Zandaril scrambled after Penrys up the steps and into Hing Ganau’s wagon, hauling the tailgate up behind him and pulling the cover tight to keep the persistent rain from penetrating the waterproofed canvas.
The two of them dripped at the very end of the wagon, and he held up his hand to keep her from moving. “Wait.”
He pointed at the clean woolen robe he had been saving as an overrobe for winter use, draped now over one of the bean sacks. “I will turn my head, see? And you will drop your wet clothes here where we can hang them. Once you’re dressed, and I am dressed, then we will celebrate the holiday, dry and comfortable.”
He handed her a cloth to towel her hair and turned away, listening for the squelch as her clothing hit the wagon bed. When she cleared her throat uncertai
