chapter eight

Food was getting scarce. Kiera had never realised how much food four hundred people ate in a month. Anatolia wasn't exactly abudant with life in the first place, and the rather sloppy hunting techniques the guards had been using were scaring away the herds.

Then there were the Ga-Vok. It seemed like the Ga-Vok could ship in any food they needed, but insisted on hunting anyways. No matter how hard they tried the Ga-Vok hunting parties seemed to stumble on the camp at least every other day. Each time they were killed, but they still had to pack up everything and move just to be safe; they'd learned quickly what would happen if they didn't.

"Milady?"
Kiera sat upright.
"A fight is brewing between some of the others; it seems that someone over ate."
Kiera picked up her sword, she wasn't going to put up with this any more.

She climbed on to a nearby rock.
"Listen up!"
The crowd looked up, surprised to see their normally quiet leader speaking.
"I've had about enough of this. Sergant, stay here and protect the camp. I'm going into town to get some food."
She watched the shock roll over the crowd. Then jumped down and started walking. Let them think whatever they wanted; she had work to do.
And she might just get a chance to kill a few of them while she was at it.