There’s more than one. It’s a group of angry soldiers, still dressed in their armor. Three of them surround me with a fourth on his way up the slope. “You killed my cousin, you witch,” One of them snarls at me, unsheathing his sword. My heart skips a beat. I’m unarmed and defenseless. The others glare at me with hatred. “You killed my fiancé.” “My childhood home was burned down by your soldiers.”
