The wind howled as the group of black-clad riders came to a stop.
Desmond hadn't slept in three days; the rings under his eyes showed it.
"Sir, you need to rest! If we don't make camp, and they ambush us, we will have no chance, even with our numbers." Jalek beseeched.
Desmond's eyes peered out from the red tangle of hair that obscured his face. "Make camp, but there will be no sleeping tonight." he said soberly.
"Send a scout into yonder woods," Desmond ordered. "If he returns, we might have parley. If not, we will have blood."