Six men approached the house as carefully and quietly as they could. Three others kept their ten horses quiet down the street. A horse for each man, and one more for their victim, once they had grabbed and bound her. The merchant was rich and would pay well for his daughter’s return. If all went as planned, they’d make a lot of money with hardly any effort.

Amos, the leader of the band, desperately needed this plan to succeed. He twisted his red beard nervously. Kidnapping was not his usual way to make money, but his gang was almost broke. His men were still willing to follow him, but they hadn’t made much money in months. His band, not quite nasty enough to be called proper brigands, too skilled and tough to still be called bandits, had had too many failures lately.

None had been anyone’s fault, especially not his. How could I know the baron and the rich merchant would both be travelin’ the same road at the same time? How could anyone know the buried treasure wasn’t thirty-five hundred moons, but only a measly, worthless thirty-five?

The merchant lived in the sleepy little town of Grangus, on the trade route northwest to Biri and Radalis, and other realms. The trade was good, enough to make the town prosperous but not rich. The merchant, Barnabas by name, was quite prosperous, more than most of his fellow citizens knew. He had a young, rather plain daughter named Pollyanna, and a very grand house. He also had a great amount of cash on hand, always. That was the rumor, at least. Another rumor said he wanted to marry his daughter to an older merchant with connections to the grand duke. A prize daughter ought to bring a very large ransom.

The residents of Grangus always felt safe; the town was surrounded by tall, thick walls. It had reliable town watchmen and the baron and his men at arms lived no more than ten miles away. The streets were mostly wide enough for wagons to go down them without trouble, and some were wide enough for wagons to pass each other.

The houses were mostly half-timbered, built of wooden beams, with the space between the beams filled with stones or bricks, all covered in plaster. The richer inhabitants used square cut stone for their homes, and built larger and taller buildings. Shuttered windows were common on the streets full of half-timbered houses. On the posher streets, blank walls and tiny windows were designed to keep thieves out. Many houses, plastered or stone, were painted with historical scenes or decorations.

Barbabas’ house, a mansion really, was built strongly, with only small windows facing the street, even far up the walls. There were no guards outside, but the men sneaking through the dark knew that a man waited inside the big door. His name was Kaleb, he was reported to be strong and tough, and his reputation for being awake all night was almost legendary locally.

Amos took off his boots, stuffed them into his knapsack, and climbed onto the tiny sill of the lowest window. A pair of toes of one foot was all he could put there, but it was a start on his climb. Jeff placed a long pole with two short blocks against the wall and Amos put a foot on the lower block and raised himself higher. He could now raise his other foot to the top of the window frame. The second block gave him access to another, higher, window.

There was some carved decoration around this floor of the mansion and Amos tucked his bare toes into a small crevice in the pattern and went up some more. Up and up he went. A final shift of hands and feet let him get over the top of the wall. He looked around the flat roof of the large square building, and at the central opening, the top of the inner courtyard, giving light and air to the inhabitants. A set of poles stretched along this side of the opening leaning inward. Ah, he thought, they put a sun screen up in the summer. How nice, how convenient. I’ll tie my rope to this pole.

He uncoiled a long knotted rope, tied one end to the pole, and let one end fall to the street below. Five men soon joined him on the roof and began to look for the way down. Moonless nights were the best for criminal attacks on buildings or people. Amos appreciated this the most, since there were not many red haired brigands and he did not like to advertise his crimes. But not being seen also meant not seeing, and they had to search for quite some time to find the stairs down.

Jeff, the last man up, recoiled the rope ladder and followed the others down the stairs, weapon out. They felt they were in luck; they had been told these stairs would only bring them to the third floor where the family slept, not down near the guard on the door. They had never been in this mansion before, but they knew about the guard, and the dogs caged somewhere on the ground floor. They also knew that all merchants lived in much the same way. Store rooms for provisions on the ground floor to make it easier to get deliveries; public rooms for entertaining guests one floor up, away from the noise of the street; family bedrooms on the third floor even farther from the noise; servants tucked away at the top in the garret.

Jeff had bought a servant girl a drink at a pub one day, and sweet talked her into describing the interior of the mansion. The daughter slept in the bedroom in the northeast corner of the place. Her father slept in the room at the very top of the main stairs, and the servant girl said he slept lightly. They’d have to grab the daughter without making any noise or her father would awaken.

The only way out with the kidnapped girl was down the grand staircase to the courtyard, then through the door with the vigilant guard. They could handle him, six against one, but not if the merchant’s other guards were called too soon. The guard would probably release the dogs when he saw them come down the stairs and that would be bad enough. Fred had some sausages with him to distract them.

Amos, still barefoot, walked quietly to the corner room and tried the door handle. It moved easily. He sighed in relief and put his boots on. From now on, he needed to be shod and ready to escape. He opened the door and stepped into the room. It was dark but he could just see the shape of a bed against the far wall. Was there a servant? Maybe that lump at the foot of the bed? He gestured to Jeff to check. It was his drinking partner, and he covered her mouth before she could wake.

Slim and John went to the bed and quickly grabbed the merchant’s sleeping daughter. A cat hissed and clawed at Slim’s hand before jumping off the bed. One hand over her mouth, blankets wrapped about her to keep her under control, they held her tightly and moved out of the room. Fred led the way down the stairs, toward the courtyard, his sausages in his hands. Jeff pushed his captive drinking partner ahead of him downstairs, while Amos and Serge took the rear, watching for an awakened merchant or servant.

They couldn’t be entirely quiet descending the staircase, and the guard was waiting for them along with three mean looking dogs. Fred tossed his sausages to the dogs, distracting them just enough for Amos and Serge to rush down and attack the guard. He blew a horn when he saw them coming at him, then swung a sword at Amos.

Amos parried the blow with his own sword, wishing they had been able to bring their shields up, and knowing that was ridiculous. The dogs had not forgotten their duty, though, and Fred had to hack at them. Sounds coming from above meant that the horn had aroused the household. Jeff pushed his girl to the floor and cut at the spine of one of the dogs. Serge and Amos soon overpowered the guard. As Fred finished off the last dog, Jeff opened the big door and they all ran out into the street. Amos tossed a rock wrapped in parchment into the house and left.

Their partners brought the horses up to them and they mounted. Slim and John tied the daughter with rope and threw her across a horse’s back. A few minutes after leaving the mansion they were on their way out of town. The gang had done its preparation properly, and knew which gate had a drunk for a watchman. Amos dismounted long enough to remove the long beam that locked the gate.

Then they were gone, and happy. No one had seen them except the guard, and he was dead. Jeff swore he had kept the servant girl from seeing his face. None of the rest of the guards had come down fast enough to see anyone. The watchman at the gate was passed out from ale. Perfect raid!

Behind them the merchant was in the street, raging, yelling, and demanding vengeance.

“Help! Help! They have stolen my daughter!” cried out Barnabas. “Townspeople, to arms! Give me your help, I beg you! Who will rescue my daughter for me? I will pay well for her safe return! I will pay one thousand moons! Yes, one thousand moons to anyone who brings her back to me!”

A large crowd had gathered, drawn by the blowing of the horn, the sound of horses racing down the street, and Barnabas’ shouting. Many of the people were sympathetic, but few were willing to go after men daring enough to kidnap someone from her own home. That sort of thing should be left to the watch, or the baron’s men, or, well, someone else. Someone brave, or stupid.

Even if they wouldn’t offer any real help, the crowd made sufficient noise to wake even more people, all of whom came out to see what was going on. At a nearby inn, a woman rose from her bed, shook her tousled red hair, and went to the open window, trying to learn who was making so much noise and why. She returned to her bed and shook awake the man in it.

“Vince, wake up,” Jenny roused her husband. “There’s money shouting in the street, and you’re sleeping through it. C’mon, get up.” She walked around the room, kicking the other sleepers. “Wake up, you guys, we’ve got a chance to get some loot.”

“What’s so special you have to wake us up in the middle of the night?” asked Vince. “Honestly, Jenny, this had better be worth it. I was dreaming about breakin’ into the duke’s treasure vault.”

“Okay, this isn’t quite that good, but you’ll like it anyway,” Jenny declared. “Some fat merchant is yelling in the street how his daughter’s been kidnapped. He’s offering a thousand moons for her return. Awake now?”

“A kidnapped girl? A thousand moons? You bet I’m awake! Are the rest of you awake yet? Let’s get dressed and meet our new benefactor.”

Vince dressed quickly and ran his fingers through his short, neat beard to tidy it. His mind wasn’t on the reward, useful as that would be to them. Another young girl kidnapped. Just like that girl years ago, the one raped by the gang I was in, the one who killed herself out of shame, the one I didn’t protect. I can’t let that happen again. Killing the gang didn’t bring her back. Killing other brigands like ’em has saved some victims, but that girl is still dead, still wanting me to make a proper atonement for what I did, and didn’t do.

The few minutes it took to dress didn’t change the scene on the street. The crowd was still milling around, offering kind words and no help. Barnabas was still demanding, requesting, beseeching help.

“Good people, have I not aided all of you at one time or another? Did I not pay for the new fountain in the town square? Do I not provide much of the food for the great fair? They want ten thousand moons for my daughter’s return. How much will that reduce what I can do for you? All I ask in return for my generosity is that some of you rescue my poor daughter. Pollyanna is all I have left in my life since her mother is gone.”

As he implored the crowd, six strangers strode into the street in front of him. A short red haired woman who moved lithely; a towering man with wide shoulders, brown hair, and a bushy beard; another woman, with medium length brown hair and keen eyes; a man with a blond goatee and mustache, looking very elegant; a third woman with long blonde hair and an attractive figure. Their leader, a big man but not so large as the brown haired giant, raised his arms over his head for attention and spoke.

“Fear not, good sir. My name is Vince, and these are my companions.” Vince waved one hand at his friends, and stroked his black beard with his other. He wanted to make his band of rogues look respectable and classy, as well as tough enough for the job. “We are ready and willing to rescue your fair daughter. I, uh, I believe I heard some mention of a reward being offered?”

What! You look like ruffians, brigands, ugh, rogues! Why would I trust my Pollyanna’s safety to you? For all I know, you may even be in cahoots with the men who kidnapped her.”

“Well, we prefer to be called adventurers. We’re certainly not bandits or kidnappers. Think, sir, you just said these men who took your daughter have asked for a very large ransom for her. Much more than the quite generous reward you’re offering for her return. If we were part of that gang, the gang would have to settle for your reward, instead of the larger ransom. No, sir, we will deal with you honorably. Your daughter is as good as rescued as soon as you give us this job.

“Indeed, who else is there for you to call on? The town watch? They spend a lot of time in the taverns. I’ve seen ’em there. The baron? He lives miles away. By the time you send for him and he gets here, at least a full day before his men can even start to search. Every hour lost is a danger to your daughter’s virtue. And we’re here, ready to serve you, right now.”

“Then, yes, yes! Find my daughter, and I will give you one thousand moons. I promise, here, before all these witnesses.”

“Thank you, good sir. Can you tell me who has kidnapped your daughter, or which way they went?”

“Oh. No, how would I know? They left a note demanding ten thousand moons. I must place the money in a chest and leave it at a fork in the road near Tindle. Did any of you good people see them?”

“Master, I think I know who took Pollyanna,” the servant girl volunteered. “I met a man in the pub a few days ago and he bought me a drink. He had blond hair and a blond beard, and he smelled of licorice. So did the man who grabbed me tonight. The man in the pub said he was camping in the hills to the north.”

“And I heard their horses galloping away,” noted an old neighbor. “They went toward the north gate.”

“Then we’ll head north,” decided Vince. “With any luck, we should bring your daughter back safe and sound very soon.”

“How soon?” asked Barnabas.

“Well, they have a head start and they know where their camp is. It’s dark tonight, and we don’t know where they’re camped. We’ll have to try to track ’em, but we can start now despite the darkness. By morning we may be able to find their trail. Then it just depends on how far into the hills we have to go. But soon. Maybe real soon. Soon.”

***

“Vince, honey, that was the best pitch you’ve ever given,” chuckled Jenny, the redhead. “You laid it on just thick enough to hook him good. ‘Your daughter’s virtue.’ Oh, that was perfect!”

“What? I care about virtue,” Vince’s baritone rose slightly as he defended his morals. “I’ve never raped anyone. You know my story. I hate rapists and would gladly kill ’em all. I’ve never sold women or girls to the pimps. I’ve never even hit on Betsy or Ellie. And not just because you’d cut my throat. Besides, that sort of talk grabs a rich guy like that right where he lives. He needs his daughter to be a virgin so he can marry her off to some other rich guy. That’s important to him.”

“We’re on the right track, leastways,” Horace drawled, stretching to his impressive full height to unkink his muscles. “Drunken watchman and an open gate. They made this here part of the job easy. How far up into the hills do you s’pose they are?”

“Not too far,” guessed Betsy, Horace’s brunette wife. “They want to find a chest near Tindle, wherever that is. Can’t be too far off. One day, two at most, I’d say. But it may take us longer to find it unless we can find their tracks in the morning.”

“The road goes more or less north for a long distance,” noticed Petey, twirling his mustache. “I think we can follow it for a long way tonight, then look for proof at dawn.”

“Let’s stop and take a look now,” Ellie suggested. “Strike a light and let me look at the road. When I was young I could track lost cows over almost any ground. Horses on a dirt road. Ha! Piece of cake!

“Yes, ten horses, moving fast. Ah, some deposits. Fresh, too. Maybe two hours ago. That’s about the right time, isn’t it? Let’s keep going on then. We can check again, if we come to some place they might have turned off.”

***

“Take the girl back to our camp,” ordered Amos. “Serge, Fred, and I will wait here to see if there’s any pursuit.”

“Do you think that’s likely?” Slim asked.

“Nah, but it’s a wise precaution,” said Amos. “It’s a sleepy little town, with some rich merchants. No one’s bothered ’em in a long while, so they ain’t ready for people like us. But a rich man kin offer a big reward, and maybe someone’ll decide to take a chance on gitting the girl back. If anyone’s following, this is a good spot to ambush ’em. We kill ’em and that’ll stop any other rescue attempts. It’ll also encourage ’em to pay the ransom. So, take her up to the camp. We’ll wait here a couple of hours and then follow you.”

It was a very good spot for an ambush, with lots of bushes and a dense growth of young trees on both sides of the road leading to a narrow, dry gully that went up a steep slope. Amos placed his men behind rocks along the gully and waited.

Petey was leading Vince’s party as they came to the gully. The night was overcast and moonless, and he could barely see how the road turned up the gully to the top of a hill. The gully forced them into going single file, with Jenny following Petey and Vince behind her.

Amos leapt out from behind a large boulder and slashed upward at Petey. Petey, surprised by the sudden attack and bleeding from a gash in his left arm, fell from his horse. He made a grab for his shield, without reaching it. He swung his sword at Amos, but he was too far from his target. Serge popped up behind him and split his head open. Ellie shrieked.

Jenny was just as surprised as Petey, but she wasn’t being attacked yet. She struck Serge from above, using her position on horseback to get extra force into her blow. He fell to the ground, got up and struggled to move away, unseen in the dark, blood streaming from his shoulder. Vince rode up and pressed hard against Amos who was himself surprised to find himself facing tough fighters. Fred tried to attack Jenny but Horace came up on foot, wielding a gigantic axe. Two more women rode up, slashing with their swords.

“Grab Serge and help me git him out of here,” cried Amos to Fred. “This ain’t no bunch of townsfolk. These guys are trained.” They disappeared into the trees and fled.

Ellie was holding Petey’s grisly remains, wanting to kiss his face, but repulsed by the gash from crown to mouth. She was howling in pain and sorrow, and the others tried to console her without any success.

“He’s dead! My Petey’s dead!” she wailed. “Oh my God! What am I going to do now? How can I live without him? Why couldn’t it have been me? Oh, Petey, why did you have to die?”

Vince directed them to make camp below the gully, and began to dig a grave for Petey. By the time he had finished, Ellie had calmed down a little. Jenny had covered Petey’s ghastly face and Betsy hugged Ellie tightly and stroked her head. Petey wasn’t their first dead companion, but it was Ellie’s first dead lover. It was never easy to lose member of one’s gang, and especially to lose a husband. At last, Ellie was able to control herself. She hugged Petey’s body one last time before they put it in the ground.

“Petey, Petey. Where will I ever find someone like you again? So loving, so kind to me. I ran away from home for you, and now you’ve left me here, all alone. I can’t blame you for dying on me. That was fate. I can’t blame you for leading me so far from my family. That was my decision, entirely. Oh, I wish I had never met you. No, I don’t wish that. I would never have had the joys we knew together. Goodbye, Petey. Goodbye, my dear love.”

They covered the body with dirt, and packed it tight so wild animals would not dig it up. Horace and Vince placed large rocks on top, making a cairn to mark the grave. They went to sleep, and Ellie lay down on the edge of the grave.

In the morning Ellie arose red-eyed and tired. She hadn’t slept at all, but she was composed.

“I’m leaving,” she told the others in a low, quiet voice. “I was with you because of Petey. I would’ve gone anywhere, done anything, with him, for him. He’s gone. I have trouble accepting that. I always knew any of us could be killed, I’ve seen it happen, but not Petey. I can’t do this anymore without him. He wanted the danger and adventure. I just wanted him, and took the rest as a part of him.

“I’m going to go back home, and deal with my parents’ outrage that I ran off. They will rant and yell and fuss, but they’ll forgive me and take me back in. That’s the kind of people they are. And maybe I’ll find some other nice guy to love, one who wants to stay at home and be boring. I think I’d like that now.”

“I understand, Ellie,” Vince sympathized. “I’d hate to lose Jenny, too. I hope you get home safely, and learn to handle Petey’s loss. You never get over something like this. You’ll never forget him. But you can go on with your life, finding a new love maybe, but still remembering Petey. Here’s Petey’s pouch. It’s yours now. It’s only got about ten moons in it, but we can all put a little more in it. That’ll make it easier for you to get home. Goodbye and good luck.”

The others hugged her one last time, gave her some more coins for her trip, and watched her ride south, homeward bound. They spent a while around Petey’s grave. Vince sighed and told them, “We still have a job to do. Petey died for nothing if we don’t get that girl back. I know how hard it’s goin’ to be, minus two of our party. We’ll just have to think harder about how to get her. Morning’s almost over, let’s go.”

***

As they came out of the gully at the top of the hill, they passed a birch tree with a brownish-red smear against its white bark.

“Well, we’re still on the right trail, at least,” Betsy noticed. “Looks like they’re still going north. I see some traces of smoke in the air that way, must be a village up ahead.”

“I don’t reckon they’ll be staying in a village, not with a kidnapped girl,” suggested Horace in his low, quiet voice. “But somewhere beyond it is perty likely. Them hills way off to the right might be just the spot. Far enough from the village to be discreet, close enough to git supplies.”

“We’re going to need supplies, too,” added Vince. “We were plannin’ to get work back there, get paid something in advance, restock our food, and then earn our pay. But we got nothing in advance, and no food. After giving Ellie a decent handout, I hope we still have enough for dinner tonight.”

“What have we got?” asked Betsy. “I’ve got three moons, four mugs.”

“Ah’ve got two moons and a single mug,” Horace said.

“I’ve got four moons, and a nice ring I’m willing to sell,” added Jenny.

“I gave Ellie all I had,” Vince admitted. “I forgot we needed some money for ourselves.”

“Liar. You wanted her to get home with something to show for being on the road,” countered Jenny. “You have a terribly soft heart. I don’t care. I should’ve done the same.”

“Yes, it was a nice gesture,” Betsy remarked. “But we still only have nine moons, five mugs, and a ring. It’s enough to get us minimum food for a week, so we better find little Pollyanna fast. I hope the kidnappers are feeding her. I’m not sure we can afford to fill her belly too.”

“Forgit the market,” urged Horace. “They buy from the farmers, and push up the prices. If we go to a farmer ourselves, maybe we kin git a better price.”

“Good idea. Let’s stop at this farm then,” suggested Vince. “The house looks in good repair, which means they’re not starving and can sell us some stuff. Yo, boy! Does your pa have any food he’d be willin’ to sell?”

A thick wall of field stone about five feet tall separated the farmhouse from the road. The house was set back about thirty feet from the wall, giving space for a grassy plot with a trestle table and some benches. The building was half-timbered, like many of the houses in Grangus, but it had a thick thatched roof. A large outhouse stood in a field behind the house. Other buildings stood nearby, barns, sheds, store houses. A young man sat on one of the benches, playing with a sling and some stones.

“There’s a market in the village today,” declared the young ginger-haired man with a light fringe of beard along his jaw line. He had a friendly expression on his face, maybe a little goofy. His squeaky tenor voice added to the impression that he didn’t seem too bright. “You kin git whatever you need there.”

“Yes, but we’re a little short of cash and want to get a better price than the market might offer,” explained Betsy. “How much can we get here, direct from your farm, for, say, six moons?”

“Moons? What’s that?” asked the young man.

“Ben, who’re you talking’ to?” called a voice from the farmhouse.

“Strangers who want to buy some food, Ma,” replied Ben. “I told ’em to go to the market in the village, but they want to give us the moon, or somethin’, for some food here.”

A middle-aged woman came out of the farmhouse, laughing. She wiped her hands on her apron, looked at the strangers on horseback by the fence, and gave them a tight smile.

“You’ll have to excuse Ben,” she commented. “He’s our youngest, maybe a little simple, and don’t do any market work. We’ve never gotten around to tellin’ him about money, and he’s never needed any so far. Guess we should start teachin’ him about these things, he’s old enough. Anyway, what do you need? More important, how much you got?”

“We’re travelin’ through, and need some food for the trail,” answered Vince. “Can we get enough food for a week for four of us? Maybe some bacon or salt pork? Sausages? Some flour to make some flat bread? We’ve got six moons. A little more if it’s needed.”

“Travelin’ through, huh? You look like riff-raff to me. My old pa would’ve called you adventurers, but he liked them old stories a lot and wanted to think they was true. All right, for his sake I’ll sell you some food. Wait here till I git it.”

She went back inside, and Ben stared at the mounted figures. His eyes grew to an enormous size, and it looked as if he was trying to memorize every detail of their appearance. His gaze went from swords to bow and axe, from shields to helmets. He licked his lips as if this was a tasty dessert he was about to eat. The man with the nicely shaped beard, the long red hair on the lady by him, the big brown beard on the really big guy.

“You’re adventurers? Really?” he finally asked.

“Yes, sonny, we’re really adventurers. This is Vince, I’m Jenny. That’s Horace and Betsy. And who are you?”

“I’m Ben. Do you really fight dragons? Do you know any wizards? Do you have wonderful magic spells to defeat your enemies? My grampa told me all about adventurers, like Scarnigaro. He was the greatest, warn’t he? Have you got a magic sword that cuts through an inch-thick iron plate? That was in one of his stories. Kin you fight against three times your number and win without gittin’ hurt? I want to be an adventurer. No. No, I really want to be a wizard, just like Rupaldo. That’s even better.”

“I’m sorry, Ben,” Vince laughed. “Your granddaddy exaggerated a bit. We do get into fights, but people get hurt in fights, even our friends. Like poor Petey. We just lost a good friend in a fight last night. And there ain’t no such thing as magic. Or dragons. Or wizards. I hate to disillusion you.”

“Having a nice talk with the strangers, Ben,” asked his mother, coming out with a large bag. “Go, git inside. I don’t want you wastin’ your time with low lifes like these.”

Ben sighed, gave the riders one last, lingering look, and went in.

“Give me five moons, and you should have enough here for a week, unless you’re gluttons. I don’t care about your sort of wanderers, but you are willin’ to pay and not steal, and you’ve got a couple of women with you, so I’m doin’ this for them. Thank you.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jenny answered. “We appreciate this a lot. By any chance, did you see a bunch of men on horses riding this way last night, or early this morning?”

“Friends of yours?”

“No, ma’am. They kidnapped a young girl back in Grangus and her father has offered a reward for her return. We think they came through this village.”

“Oh, well, if you’re tryin’ to rescue a young girl, maybe you’re not so bad. I heard some noise late last night, but I can’t tell you where they went. This mornin’ I went out to milk the cows and saw three men ridin’ off toward those hills to the east over there. One looked like he was bleedin’ badly.”

“I gave him that wound after he killed one of my friends,” Jenny explained. “I’m sorry he’s still alive. Thank you for the information.”

They strapped the bag of provisions onto Petey’s horse, now their pack animal, with nothing much to carry. They turned back onto the road and Horace looked at the sky.

“Half the afternoon gone already and we got a long ride to reach those hills. Maybe if we push it we kin catch up with three that killed Petey. The wounded guy is gonna slow ’em down.”

“Maybe, but how much did we slow down when you got wounded last year,” recalled Betsy. “You complained every jarring jolt of the way, but we rode like fury all the same.”

“If we get beyond this village up ahead, we can camp for the night,” Vince decided. “It’s early, I know, but we have to have a good plan before just four of us go attacking nine or ten guys. If we start at dawn tomorrow, we’ll make up the time we lose tonight. Frankly, I’m still down about losing Petey. And Ellie. We didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and we’re all pretty glum. Let’s rest and press on tomorrow more refreshed.”