The forty militiamen stood in line in the barrack’s courtyard, which was situated near the gatehouse on the castle’s north-east corner. Their swords were sheaved in thick leather belts. Each man had a dagger tucked into his waistband and ten of them also held longbows, which rested upright on the ground, casually held in their hands. David looked at the men’s faces, turning bright red with cold, and wished he could feel the same way he had yesterday morning, when he had not a care in the world and was looking forward to a grand feast of wild boar with his family. Although his expression was passive, it hid the tumultuous thoughts and feelings that were overwhelming him. News about the previous night’s attacks on farms, his brother’s death, the young murdered couple, and missing children would come soon. The men were going to be shocked and enraged, and he would have to appear as though he were learning the details for the first time.
