The Feast was in full swing. That made it almost too easy.
Almost.
2 shadows slipped through the corridors, moving without a sound, no trace of their presence left. Silent, they shifted their path only once, when a drudge got in the way and was not moving swiftly enough to suit them. They could not risk getting caught, for trouble would surely follow should they be.
The obstacle overcome, they continued, making their way into now empty Grounds, one of them eyeing the two drudges who had been set to stand guard while the Riders and others feasted their pain away. A thrown rock, a click on the other side, and the guards were gone, leaving the way clear for the shadows to slide into the path left open by the foolish holders.
For many hours they moved without rest, neither complaining of the burden they both carried, and soon, a side passage was found, leading away from both Hold and Weyr both. A brief debate, then both turned as one and headed down it, disappearing swiftly into the all consuming darkness...
The Barrack was as it had been found, save for one difference. The bedcovers had been stripped off and taken. Nothing was left to indicate anyone had ever been there, not a scrap of fabric or a stray stocking. Is was as if the occupant...