Chapter Five: Yarn and the Yellow Moon The wagons were creaking, the horses restless, and the sun had just begun to peek above the tree-dotted hills to the east when the caravan began to stir. Knox stood to the side, arms crossed, the last bone of his ham leg clenched between his teeth like a toothpick. He watched as the hired guards—mostly half-trained swordhands with rusted mail and nervous hands—milled