Hodge kept a firm hold on Isabel. ‘Actually, it is a little over sixteen hundred at present, but only until the western camp is built.’

‘You mean rebuilt?’ Isabel pointed out.

Hodge’s mouth flattened into a thin line. ‘Correct.’

‘What happened to the western camp?’ Hadewaye asked.

Alveye muttered, ‘I could hazard a guess.’

‘Ruffians,’ Hodge said simply. ‘Ruffians standing in the way of progress.’

‘Hard to imagine,’ Tatum said, gaze flicking to Blackmane’s.

The sarcasm was lost on Hodge. ‘All going well, the second camp should be open by the end of the month.’

Blackmane looked back at the buildings. ‘So where do the excess people sleep?’

‘Inside, of course. We cannot have people sleeping out in the cold. We pack them into the lower bunks.’

Silence followed that statement.

Hodge began walking again, and the others followed. Blackmane’s jaw tightened in unison with the earl’s grip on Isabel.

‘Careful,’ Tatum said quietly, stepping past him. ‘You’ll break a tooth.’

Blackmane feigned ignorance as he forced his focus to the fenced area up ahead, presumably for livestock.

Hodge stopped in front of the fence and finally let go of Isabel’s hand. He turned to face them. ‘A children’s section was my idea.’

There was a collective exchange of confused looks.

Blackmane peered through the drawn wire fence, freezing when he saw them. Children. Not running or playing like they should be but seated in groups, some with infants on their laps. Still and silent, watching them through the fence.

‘What the hell is this?’ Hadewaye asked, not holding back with his tone.

Hodge waved a hand. ‘This is where the children are kept when their parents are working.’

Isabel walked over to the fence, pressing a finger to a sharp piece of wire—just like the wire used to keep cattle in. She turned to Hodge, eyes blazing. ‘Why are they locked up like this?’

The earl appeared perplexed by the question. ‘We cannot very well have them wandering about the camp unsupervised. That is hardly safe.’

Isabel blinked. ‘Where are their mothers? Fathers? Aunts?’

‘Working, obviously.’

More looks were exchanged between the defenders, an entire conversation taking place without a single word being spoken.

Isabel brought a hand to her temple. ‘Are you telling me that you separate children from their mothers and fathers and lock them in a pen, like pigs?’

An annoyed expression settled on Hodge’s face. ‘We cannot have children getting underfoot. Containing them in one central area is the most sensible approach.’

Isabel covered her face with her hands. ‘Oh my goodness.’

‘My beloved, this is a unique situation of which you cannot possibly understand the complexities,’ Hodge said in his most patronising tone.

Her hands fell to her sides, and she stared at him for a few beats before saying, ‘You are right. I do not understand.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I would like to go to my tent, please.’

‘But you have not seen the holding cells yet’ came his reply.

She winced.