Into the Castle.

The soldiers, about ten in all, started off, heading in the direction of the hidden zombies. Dreth fretted. The men were between him and the wagon! He didn't want them to find them, or worse, Darkblood. He started to walk towards the wagon again, then changed his mind and turned the other way, and then stopped again, undecided.

*Pull yourself together*, he thought. He stood still and thought things through.

Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as all that. No doubt the guards would want to take the zombies to join Tybalt and the Halfling wizard. All he had to do was follow and it would be 'mission accomplished.' Could be an option.

Nodding to himself, he walked down the street, trying to act as casually as possible, though he abandoned an attempt to whistle nonchalantly after several people in wagons looked at him strangely. Centuries rotting in a dungeon had evidently not made him any more tuneful.