Free The Thirteenth Scroll by Rebecca Neason Page A

off quickly and wrapping herself in a warm dressing gown, she led
     the way back into their chamber to call for maps so she could trace for Giraldus the trail that they must follow.

Chapter Five
    I t did not take Lysandra long to gather her provisions. Although she did take a few supplies from the cottage larder, she knew
     how to live off the land, and so the main weight of her bundle consisted of a change of clothing, an extra cloak in case the
     nights turned cold, a small paring knife, and a larger dagger. With these latter she could easily harvest the plants and roots
     on which she would live. She also included a large assortment of dried herbs, a few small pots of prepared medicines, and
     strips of bandages. The herbs all had properties she might well need—and many of them made excellent teas.
    Finally, Lysandra brought out her mother’s jewelry. She did not remember gathering it before she left Scorda, but she remembered
     little of that time. Nor had she brought the pieces out to admire or remember, let alone wear, in all the years since.
    Now, Lysandra was glad of them. She would need to pay for food and lodging, and her mother’s jewelry could be traded or sold.
It’s not much
, she thought, trying to be practical. She fingered each piece, trying to guess its worth.
    There were five rings, three of gold and two of silver. One of the gold rings was set with a garnet, her mother’sbirthstone—as was the largest of the three brooches. Of the other two, one was silver filigree and the other was heavily enameled.
     There were also a few unadorned chains and one from which a large, tear-shaped freshwater pearl was suspended, four hair clasps,
     silver—of knotwork design—and two carved-bone hair combs. It had been her father’s pride that, as a dyer and seller of dyes,
     he had been prosperous enough to buy such things for his wife.
    Well, that doesn’t matter now
, she told herself. Still, she put the combs aside to keep. Her mother had worn them so often… and besides, Lysandra did not
     think they would be of much value to sell.
    But where am I going?
she asked herself. It was all so confusing, like trying to put a puzzle together with no picture as a guide, and the pieces
     just seemed to get smaller and smaller. Lysandra sat in her favorite chair, a steaming mug of tea in her hands, and closed
     her eyes. She opened her mind, and her soul, to be as receptive as possible. In slow, deep breaths, she inhaled the scent
     of chamomile and wood betony, one of her favorite herb mixtures. It rose from her cup and filled her senses with warm, soothing
     fragrance. Soon she could hear her own heartbeat, feel each breath as it entered and escaped her body.
    And in this stillness, she waited.
    It did not come as
seeing
, as with her moonlit vision in the garden. Nor did words come into her mind. Yet, suddenly, between the space of one breath
     and the next, a deep certitude filled her. She
knew
. She must go to Ballinrigh, to the capital city of Aghamore, and somewhere amid the crowded houses and tall spires, the city
     noises and the crush of people, she would find the object of her search.
    Lysandra still abhorred the idea of rejoining the world,of again being around people with their whirling jumble of thoughts and needs. Yet it seemed there was no other way to end
     the dreams and visions that plagued her. But through whatever awaited, her one true goal would be to return here—to come
home
—to this place, this life, that had given her back the will to live.
    The warmth of the sun coming through the windows told Lysandra that the day was bright and fine. She finished the last of
     her tea and reluctantly put the mug aside. She wished she could convince herself that the decision she had made was wrong,
     that she did not really have to leave at all. She was no adventurer, to go wandering the kingdom. She wanted to believe that
     everything she had experienced over the last weeks was the product of an