[piosenniel]

November 1st – mid-morning to night

With nothing to do, the men hung about their rude camp, spending their time in sharpening their weapons and making sure their boiled leather vests and arm braces were in good working order. At some point, a confrontation was expected. Best to be prepared and protected.

‘Those Shiriffs gonna meet up with us any time soon?’ asked Ahriman, oiling his blade.

Assiram grunted. ‘Who knows? They’re Hobbits. They’re unreliable at best and a liability at worst. They’d better be able to take care of themselves when we meet up with that so called Resistance.’ His companions both laughed at this. ‘I can tell you this,’ he went on, ‘when it comes down to the fighting, it’s every Man for himself as far as I’m concerned.’ Helios and Ahriman narrowed their eyes at this comment. They had had the same thoughts, wondering who might be left standing to claim Ferny’s promised payment for the job – all the payment, not just a third.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Late that night, as Ahriman took his turn at the watch, he was just about to doze off when he heard a scuffling in the thicket on the north perimeter of the camp. And the sound of two low voices whispering back and forth to one another. He poked Assiram, lying nearby, in the side and leaned near, whispering.

Assiram rose up, sword in hand, his eyes straining to catch sight of the intruders. He motioned Ahriman, and Helios, who had been roused by the small commotion, to go round to the sides if the thicket. He stepped toward the thicket, and beyond the circle of light thrown by their small fire.

‘Come out and show yourselves!’ he cried. ‘Let me see your faces before we run you through!’