The cut men sound frightening. In my head, I am imagining monstrous men with bits hacked off them. In reality, the soldiers deliver me to a small villa deep inside the sheriff’s compound where I am greeted by two men with shaved heads. They wear white robes that are a far cry from the armor everyone else is wearing. They are not as rough or masculine as the soldiers. Their eyes hold a more gentle expression—not that I care about their expressions.
I have been packed into a cage, wheeled across more city than I knew existed, and taken into a fortified place from which escape is going to be exceptionally difficult. The orchards I stole from are at the very verge of the city. If you’re smart you can sneak in and out. This is the heart of it. There is no coming and going here.
The soldiers o
