“How many left?”
“About five hundred.”
“Only?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Are you questioning my ability to count?”
Silence. Heavy, overwhelming silence. Gloriah stole a glance at the Captain, the man who had invaded their land, the man who had orchestrated the shedding of her tribe’s blood. She had listened to his story, about how he had no choice, about how he had to protect his offspring. How can a man whose will can be swayed at a whim of threat be trusted?
“You look, troubled healer…”
Gloriah averted her gaze to Luke. He had been quietly watching Guzman and the Captain conversing about the remaining warriors. They would have been more if the Captain had not instructed their deaths.
“How can you trust him? Is he not bound to serve whoever is keeping his son?”
Luke stole a glance
