The villagers are surrounding me, ready to beat me to death.
I step back towards the forest, but then I remember the bandits.
Ah, dying from a sword is unquestionably better than a lynch.
Before I can turn and run away, though, Alexander's voice reaches me like from the heavens.
«What is happening here?» he asks.
He's riding a black horse, and he looks at me almost uninterested. Then, he recognises me.
His face turns dark, and his eyes glare first at me and then at the rest of the crowd. I brace myself, trying to look as pitiful as I can.
He jumps off the horse and approaches me. He moves a lock of hair and observes my wound.
«Who did this?» he asks, rather calmly.
The boy from before takes a step forward with pride. He missed me, by the way. What is he bragging about?
Before the children get in trouble, I pull my husband's sleeve and ask him, with my eyes, to comfort me.
