“I do see.”
Whoever owned such an ominous tone was likely as imposing as his voice was deep, for his footfall was powerful against the wood.
“Then perhaps there is something else you hide.”
Swift stomps toward the kitchen turned Hannah’s blood instantly cold.
“Nay!” Ensign rushed to the doorway and turned to face the parlor, his shoulders just visible from where Hannah pressed against the wall. “’Tis only that I am ashamed I have naught to offer.”
A shadowed figure neared, darkening the light at Ensign’s frame. This time a different voice, equally rich but more melodic, whispered past the doorway. “Do not test me, old man. For I promise you shall lose.”
Ensign remained motionless. “The king, as you say, may now own the foundry, but this is still my home, and I will not have you demanding that which I do not possess.”
The unseen man sniffed, his shadow lengthening. “Then pray, how is it I smell bread and a hearty stew? Wilson, help me persuade him.” With a grunt the man shoved Ensign, but he gripped the doorframe and looked to Hannah, the silent command blaring in his eyes.
Run.
She picked up her skirt and raced for the door.
“A girl!” The soldier barked from behind. “Major, a girl!”
Her heart stopped, but her feet propelled her to the freedom of the door.
“Run!” Ensign yelled.
“After her!”
She yanked it open as Ensign roared. “Leave her be!”
“Out of my way.”
“Never—”
A shot cracked the air, and Hannah stopped just outside the door. Shock slowed her senses. White smoke rising, Ensign fell limp to the ground in a heap. Her eyes rose to the man who lowered the pistol and stared directly at her.
Limbs thick and numb, she stared back, unable to find the strength to make her way to safety. Somehow she heard a voice from behind that pulsed blood through her legs. Run, child. Run.
Sprinting, she yanked her skirts to her knees and darted to the barn as yells and frantic footsteps raced from behind.
The winter air drove spikes into her heaving lungs and brushed past her cheeks and up her skirts as she hurled herself to the barn, slowing only enough to slip sideways through the gap in the sliding door. Hannah rushed to the nearest horse and flicked the latch of the back door.
Faster.
She gripped the horse’s mane, launching herself onto his unsaddled back only seconds before two soldiers rushed in.
“There!” The taller soldier ran forward. “You’ll not get away so easily, you trollop.” He lunged, when a flash and crack jerked his progress. He bellowed and crumpled forward as the first soldier spun around, spitting curses that sparked in the damp air.
Ensign stood half-bent, weapon in hand, blood gushing over his fingers as he pressed a fist to his wound. He looked to Hannah, a rainstorm of emotions clouding his eyes.
The remaining soldier looked back and forth between them. His dark glare went wicked, and he grabbed for his dagger, lunging and thrusting the blade into Ensign’s gut.
Hannah’s scream scraped up her throat. “Nooo!”
The soldier yanked the blade back, and Ensign slumped to his knees before falling to the ground.
Grief and shock choked her, as thick and course as a rough-hewn rope.
Slowly the soldier circled back, when once again that gentle voice whispered from the heavens.