Tabitha’s pov
My knees hit the damp dirt floor of the tent, my hands clutching the hem of Morgath's ragged robes so hard my knuckles turned white.
The fire in the small iron braziers crackled and hissed, filling the cramped canvas space with the choking stench of wet wood, sulfur, and stagnant pond water. Outside, the storm was raging across the southern ridge, rain lashing against the tent walls in loud, violent sheets.
"You have to do it now, Fernando!" I pleaded, my voice cracking into a high, breathless sob. "You can't wait until noon tomorrow! We have to take her tonight!"
Fernando stood near the central wooden post, an iron cup of dark ale held loosely in his large, scarred hand. He slowly turned his head to glare down at me, his dark eyes narrowed in pure disgust.
"I told you n
