Jonah hurried over. When he arrived, his stomach turned at the grotesque sight.
In front of him were several bodies of blonde women, clad in wet rags, splayed all around the grounds. He squinted; one of them was missing a head, another one a leg. All of them — or at least, all the dead bodies with their heads attached — had hair in varying shades of blonde, but they were around the same length.
Jonah gingerly used a gloved hand to flip the nearest body around, hissing as he examined it more closely. The body wasn't bloated, which meant that it wasn't submerged in water for long. The skin hadn't gone gray with decay, but that didn't mean she wasn't killed a long time ago; Alistair could have easily used magic to prevent the body from rotting.
No, what caught his eyes was her face. Her eyes were wide with terror, as though she had been scared to death.
"Sir Jonah, this woman… Her face…" One of his soldiers gulped and he took a wary step back.
