cry as I quickly moved myself to the back of the carriage. A dark-haired man with a full beard eyed me before stepping up into the carriage and grabbing me roughly by the arm.
“She is here!” he cried out over his shoulder.
“Let me go!” I cried out as I tried to dig my fingernails into his arm though it seemed to have no effect on him. I felt my chest tighten in fear though I tried not to show it. “Release me immediately! Branford!”
The dark haired man’s low chuckle silenced me and sent chills up and down my arms as he hauled me to the carriage door and out into the sunlight.
“You will not find him much use to you now,” he said with a sneer.
The brightness of the sun made it difficult to see at first, but as my eyes became used to the light, I could see bodies lying around both the carriage and the ground further up the road. The body of our carriage driver in his dark jacket was near where the horses should have been, but they were no longer attached to their harnesses. Two men lying on their backs with eyes staring blankly to the sun were guards I recognized while others were unknown to me. Not far from the carriage, there was one large and burly man in heavy chainmail with a mace still grasped in his hand.
It was seeing the figure lying next to him that made me feel as if rough fingers were gripping my throat and squeezing the breath from me.
No…
When I looked at the figure on the ground, my chest tightened, and I could not draw breath to utter a sound. My body felt as though it wanted to simply drop to the ground and curl up, but my legs would not cooperate enough to let me fall. I could see part of the dark leather that covered his shoulders, the thick steel blade still grasped in his fingers, and the reddish-bronze hair drenched in sweat as it splayed out over his neck. He was face down in the dirt, and he did not move.
There was blood—I could not tell how much—but there was blood on his head.
I felt my mouth drop open as if to scream, but nothing came out. I stood paralyzed, staring at my husband on the ground and trying to comprehend what was happening. Perhaps he was only feigning, and the blood was not even his own.
I felt hands on my arms, which brought me from my haze.
“Branford!” I cried out, but there was no response.
The man who had pulled me from the carriage was still at my back, yelling at me to be quiet, and another man joined him to gather my arms behind my back and then drag me backwards—away from my husband.
“No! Oh, please, God! No! Branford!”
I continued to scream his name and struggle against the arms that held me, but I could not break free. Two other men stepped forward, and their glaring eyes were full of determination when they grabbed my legs and lifted me from the ground. I wanted to keep struggling, but I was afraid of harming the child if I fell.
One man held my arms while two others each held one of my legs. I was carried in this way for many yards until I was dropped to my feet near a group of men on horseback. I recognized none of them, and there was nothing on their armor to tell from which kingdom they may have hailed. As I was manhandled and pushed toward a cart, many of the men turned their horses and began to head down the road toward the south, in the direction of Silverhelm castle.
And Hadebrand, I thought to myself.
There were still many around me—two holding my arms at my sides and two leading us through the men and horses still on the road. The babe inside of me chose that moment to roll and kick, leaving me quite aware of what my body protected. I clenched my muscles and felt hot tears run down my face. What could I possibly do? I would not have a chance against a single one of them, let alone four. There was only one other option—beg for mercy.
“Please…do not hurt me…my child…”
The pleas were met with a swift slap to my face.
“Silence!” one of the men roared at me, and a moment later a bag was pulled over my head, and I could no longer