Urdon Pov
Viktor slumped against the wet stone rim of the well. His chest was heaving up and down, and the skin around his collarbone was purple from the rogue leader's teeth.
The white stones under his thighs were covered in dark red grease. I took two slow steps forward, using my left hand to hold the heavy chair leg. My right arm was still dead weight against my belly, throbbing with every beat of my heart.
"It is over, Viktor," I said.
Viktor did not look up immediately. He wiped his nose with the back of his dirty sleeve, leaving a thick smear across his cheek. He let out a wet cough that made his whole body shake.
"You think you won something," Viktor rasped.
"Your men are gone," I said. "The rogues went back to the ridge. You are sitting in my dirt alone."
Freda walked up beside me and placed her hand flat against my forearm. Her palm was hot and sticky with sweat, and her knuckles were white from holding her knife so tight for the last hour.
