The overturned barge turned lazily in the current. Beneath it, the villagers clung onto holds under the hull, added during the frenetic hour before the soldiers had burned the village. The entire deck had been removed to make room for everyone underneath.

  Genell released her hand from the mouth of her terrified son. She had been unable to shield his eyes and he had seen the death of Stenn through cracks in the wall. “Mummy!” he moaned.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered, “Shh, it’s all right. We’re all right.”

  Everyone’s eyes were round with fear. Their village was gone but they had come through fire on all sides and remained alive and undiscovered.

  “That was a brave man,” said Shrugg.

  “He was,” said Gramma Bickert, “A good husband, too.” Shrugg’s eyes rounded as realization sank in.

  “So are you,” said Genell to Shrugg. “You’re a good man, too.”

  “What do you mean good?” said Sarney, hitting out blindly. “That’s our house burning!”

  Grandma Bickert reached out to steady the boy with her free hand while Genell hugged him close.

  “It could be worse,” said the old lady grimly.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “How?”

  “You could be in it.”

  ***

  Stenn’s attack and the warehouse’s collapse had compelled the attention of the company of ravagers, just as Shrugg had said they would. Blaise heard the crash and, arms burning with effort, was finally able to release her hold on the hastily nailed-on framework under the ox wagon. Her heart beating double time, she lowered herself to the ground from her hiding place beneath. Downie dropped down beside her.

  This was the most dangerous moment. They held their breath and listened. No hoofbeats or shouts came near them. There was more to do, though. It was not enough to get out of the village. The riders would hunt them all down, unless Blaise and Downie were able to find and send help. Find the Scarlet Knights.

  Blaise scrambled from under the cart and made for the riverbank. She tried not to splash and stayed low. The land was flat and clear but the riverbed was lower and she could hide there. Downie tumbled over the edge and got wet. Of course. He had always been kind of wet. She hoped the ripples would not be noticed. Sparing him barely a look, she made south in a crouch, hugging the bank. Downie followed as he could.

  They reached the creek bed after a minute. It was dry from days of no rain. It wasn’t as deep a depression as the river so she crawled, quiet as she could manage and careful not to raise herself to the level of the landscape. Downie followed. The riders were out there looking. They had not been seen.

  The treeline was still a ways away, too far to just run for it. Blaise was dirty and hurting from scrapes on her knees and elbows and chest. This opportunity for glorious adventure seemed less and less enchanting by the minute. Blaise rolled over and risked a look over the lip of the ditch. The horsemen were still sweeping the fields, looking for, well, for her. Her and Downie. The two of them were the necessary end of Shrugg’s plan. One at least must find and bring the Scarlet Knights or the villagers were doomed.