Chapter 24

Marcelo had been correct in thinking he’d been sharing the wagon bed with the man he’d killed at camp. On the other side of a small hay bale, that man’s vacant eyes stared blankly at the sky, while his mouth hung open, as if surprised by what he saw.

A long leather sack lay near the dead man, and Marcelo pulled it to him. Inside he found a cache of weapons. Knives, daggers, and swords. Some loose, some in sheathes. He recognized the unique handle of Efren’s sword loose among them.

He pulled it out and studied the sharp blade. Efren’s scabbard might still lie on the floor of their tent. Marcelo rooted through the pile and pulled out a knife with a matching handle.

That knife made quick work of Marcelo’s remaining bindings. He rubbed his ankles where the rope had abraded his skin.