He quite blatantly set up a seat for himself against the outer wall of the keep, making a pillow between his head and his hand. He then closed his eyes, as if daring someone to interrupt his slumber. Naturally, his own men were not the sort to, but it wasn't long before he heard a sudden metallic clang right by his ear.
He tried to turn his head to look at the source of it, only to find that the movement of his neck was much impeded by the sharp blade that was thrust under it.
"Work," Harland said menacingly in the Yarmdon tongue. Ser Yordly didn't understand the word, but he could understand the look on the man's face.
"Alright, alright, I'm getting up," Yordly said, jumping to his feet.
