Without a word, everyone refrained from mentioning why they had come. They counted heads where they stood, then quickly retraced their steps until the lively-looking husks were out of sight. There, they began unloading the horses that had been tethered in place.
At least half the weight was already being carried on their bodies. The rest consisted mainly of tent poles, canvas, and the least-used burden of all on the journey: lamp oil.
The squires carefully removed the small jars packed in netted bags and set them down in batches, well away from the campfire.
They still had no idea why they had brought along these troublesome things in the first place. That didn't change the fact that, in hindsight, it had been the wisest decision. It greatly reduced the work of gathering fuel and meant they could destroy the place more quickly and thoroughly, so it wouldn't become a recurring nightmare that jolted them awake in the future.
Once they had finished setting up their lodgings for the night, the squires began chopping down trees for firewood. They split the logs roughly and carved away most of the damp, diseased wood at their centers.
Starting a fire was an art in itself. First, they had to clear the open ground around the village to create a firebreak. Most of the firewood they were preparing was for the church in the middle, to ensure they could destroy its supporting beams and pillars. The houses, on the other hand, had a high proportion of wooden parts, and some had thatched roofs, so they could burn on their own.
Progress wasn't ideal. After working for most of the afternoon, they were still far short of the amount of firewood they needed by nightfall. They might have to wait until noon the next