Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series Read Online Free

question slowly. She had already asked it once and she did not like having to repeat it.
    “The sorcerer will know when it’s safe to leave the wagons. ” He motioned towards Agminion. “ He’ll also be able to find each of the wagons that have one of the concealed compartments. He’ll knock quietly and then you can open the door, not before.”
    “Thank you,” Heather said and then she climbed into the small cramped hole. She pulled her small pack in with her, placing it near her feet. It contained several days of provisions and several changes of clothes; all compliments of the king. In addition, her sword was strapped to her belt. It was rather difficult to hold her pack, align her sword, and climb into the small hole, but she managed.
    The old man handed up a small water bottle which surely could not contain more than two or three mouthfuls of water. “Allow yourself one sip when the wagons stop for lunch and another mid-afternoon. No more. Understand? You remember what we talked about, how there are to be no breaks, no chances for you to leave the compartment until nightfall.”
    Heather nodded and Ald ric pushed the fake door closed. She quickly found out how to close the three latches.
    It was even tighter than she had imagined. There were only a couple finger widths between her stomach and the wood of the wagon floor just above her. She was lying on her back and she groaned as she realized there wasn’t even enough room for her to roll over.
    She listened to the others moving away and a knot of worry began growing in her belly. She had a sneaking suspicion that this would be one of the longest days of her life.

Chapter 3
     
    Heather’s fears were soon realized. The carts left the massive storehouse a little after dawn and it was pure misery. She shivered in the cool morning air, while she listened to the clip-clop of the horses feet and the creaking of the wagon wheels. Every now and then, she heard one of the drivers call out something, either to the horses or to the other drivers.
    She couldn’t see where they were going, couldn’t see anything at all as a matter of fact. The little compartment had no holes with which to see through. Perhaps she could have looked downwards through the cracks in the compartment planks but she had chosen to lie on her back and she couldn’t see the cracks anymore.
    Besides the coolness of the air, another major irritant was the dust that fell continuously through the wagon floor above her head. Her eyes were soon red with irritation and constantly watering. It soon got so bad that she pulled her shirt up to cover her face. This helped keep the dust out of her eyes but she was even more cold as her stomach was now exposed.
    The compartment suddenly fell away below her and Heather’s head rebounded off of the wooden planks just inches above her face. She grunted at the impact and then again when she caught up with the planks beneath her. The wagon had ran into a rut or hole causing her to hit her head against the ceiling followed quickly by landing hard on the floor. She could taste blood and knew she had bitten her tongue.
    She took a deep breath, knowing she had to be more careful. All it would take was one of the drivers or guards to hear her groans and they would all be undone.
    Well, she thought in a rather grumpy mood, what else can go wrong?  
     
    The wagon train was stopped at the city gates and searched. Heather couldn’t see the gates, but judging by the sheer number of voices there had to be a large number of people packed into a very small area. She could only imagine that it was one of the circular courts that lay right before the gates.
    Luckily, merchants typically were quickly searched and allowed to leave. Monarchies knew that the wealthy pay the taxes and if you anger them too much then they might just take up residence somewhere else. While most monarchies do not fear the wealthy, they do respect them, which is more than they do for the