Rex Pov
Outside, three small orange fires were burning in the old cabbage patch, sending thin grey smoke straight up into the moonlit air. I counted twenty warriors sitting on their iron shields, their steel spears planted in the mud next to them. Two more soldiers walked past the broken well frame, their heavy iron boots making a dry crunching sound on the frozen weeds.
"They are setting up three more tents by the storage shed," I said. I pulled my face back from the glass and adjusted my grip on the heavy iron pipe.
"They are settling in for the morning," Freda said from the kitchen table. She was using a piece of grey twine to tie the handle of her hunting knife to her belt loop.
"Caleb has the whole road blocked," I said.
Urdon did not move from the long oak bench. His right arm was wrapped tight in a white sheet, but a fresh pink spot was already growing near his elbow. His skin looked yellow under the candle flame, and his breathing was fast and shallow.
