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“Does Marilyn know what we have planned?” Bala asked as she finished tying her blond locks back away from her face with a piece of bailing twine she had found on the way to Cornejo’s shed.

“I told Dorith last time she was here visiting Hunter to pass on the word that we were going to deal with all the building supplies the Legionnaires had brought in.” Grayden looked at Hunter, who was nodding, so he assumed the message had been delivered. “So, let’s say she knows.”


Grayden watched Bala as she checked her bow one more time, then made sure her daggers were tucked in her belt. He knew she was very particular about how her weapons hung ready for use. When everything was as she wanted it, she carefully gripped the handle and lifted the small, cast iron, box in which a few hot charcoals burned.


“What do you think we are facing? Did anyone get a count?” Hunter asked.


“I saw them milling around yesterday out the back door of my bakery,” Myna answered. “I saw ten, but I didn’t exactly ask them to stand still and let me count, and I didn’t want them see me staring, either.”

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Copyright 2018, 2019, 2020  —  Bill Snodgrass