Bandits in the woods (1)
Alexander lets go of the sword and throws it on the ground. Where it lands with a clonk, dust rises. My husband lifts his arms and shows his empty hands, calm and composed.
Nothing can unsettle him, really!
He moves down the ladder to the ground, and then he turns to me. He stretches out his arm and waits for me to catch it.
I prefer being next to him than alone in the carriage, so I promptly grab his hand and follow him down. As soon as we're stable, he surrounds my shoulders and pulls me in his embrace, protecting me the way he can.
I clench his shirt, leaning on him and observing the bandits with a keen eye. In fact, they are bandits.
The two knights escorting us are standing nearby with their hands in the air, their faces contorted because of their failure. There are too many bandits for the two of them, actually.
I'm surprised Alexander hasn't predicted such an occurrence.