Olwyna watched the men arm themselves with whatever crude weapons they could find, and her heart sank even further. These men weren't soldiers at all. They were craftsmen and farmers, many of whom had never swung anything heavier than a hammer or scythe. How could they hope to stand against the creatures that had taken her husband?
And yet, as she watched them pick up everything from shovels to garden rakes, she didn't see a single man turning away when his turn to take a weapon came. They were afraid, some more than others. Many shifted nervously, giving their improvised weapons awkward practice swings as they found their place in ranks behind overturned tables, but none of them ran and hid in their cellars or tried to flee from the south gate.
