The hill south of Falmouth gave a perfect view of the city.
That was exactly why Daren picked it.
He laid flat against the cold ground with his cloak pulled tightly over his back, blending into the tall grass covering the slope. Beside him, Marrick crouched behind a thin tree, carefully watching the city below while resting one hand near the knife on his belt.
Neither of them spoke at first.
They just watched.
From up here, Falmouth looked tense.
The city walls stretched across the distance like an old shield trying to protect something already frightened. Even from far away, Daren could tell the city was nervous. The northern roads were crowded with carts and civilians still trying to get inside before the gates closed for the evening.
Families dragged livestock behind them.
Farmers carried sacks over their shoulders.
Children clung to their parents while guards shouted at people to move faster.
Fear.
Daren smirked faintly.
That was good.
Fear made people weak.
