Freda Pov
The sharp end of the quill went deep into Viktor's hand. He didn't scream. He let out a low, rough sound like he was choking on a piece of bone. He looked at his hand pinned to the wooden table and then he looked at Urdon. His face turned a dark, angry red. He pulled his hand back, ripping the paper and snapping the wood of the quill, and blood started to drip onto the surrender contract.
"You should have just signed it," Viktor said. He wiped his hand on his pants and reached for the heavy axe at his belt.
"I don't sign things for people like you," Urdon said. He stood up from the chair. He was slow and he was leaning to one side, but he stood.
I moved to his side. My hand went to the small knife in my waistband. The room felt very small all of a sudden. Viktor had four big men behind him and Silas was still curled up on the floor near the wall. Outside, the noise of the yard had gone quiet, which was worse than the shouting. It meant they were waiting.
