"There," he sighed. "That's better. It's time to review your soldiering lessons."
I groaned. From my crawling days, Grandfather had taught me all the tricks of the American and the British armies, and quite a few from the French. Again and again and again. It would do no good to argue. I was his captive. (11.13)
"They aren't my family," the farmer said as he motioned for his wife to climb aboard. "They only rode in back the last mile or so. They was walking and we picked them up."
"He's lying!" I shouted.
"I don't have no fever," the farmer continued. "My wife and baby are healthy. Let me just drive through so I can get to Bethlehem by nightfall. We won't stop for nothing." (11.55-11.57)
"Let go of him!" I shouted.
The man ignored me. His hands were around Grandfather's throat. Grandfather weakly hit back at the man, but it had no effect. The man struck Grandfather's head against the floor. Grandfather's eyelids fluttered, then closed.
"Nooo!" I screamed. I swung the sword and gashed the thief's should. He howled and rolled to the side, grasping at the bloody wound.
"You cut me," he said in disbelief. "The wench cut me with the sword."
"Get out of my house, before I cut out your heart." I raised the sword and ran at him. (19.72-19.76)