Chapter 122: Sacrificial Lambs 2
When Lara saw that Angus was there to cover for Alaric, she did not waste any more time and turned her horse toward the southeast, drawing arrows as she went along.
Her heart pounded as she urged her horse forward, the wind whipping at her face. She felt an arrow soar past her, felling an enemy in the distance who had an arrow trained at her. She looked back and saw that it was Angus giving not only Alaric the cover he needed but also hers as well. She trusted him and Alaric and the soldiers who were valiantly fighting — now her focus shifted to the villagers.
The ground stretched before her, a patchwork of green and brown. Rows of trees lined the horizon. Beyond them lay an expanse of emerald grass, dotted with palm trees that swayed gently under the sun’s warmth. In the distance, the sea glimmered, its surface a tapestry of blues and silvers, deceptively calm against the chaos unraveling inland.
What a beautiful day. If only it was a normal day.
As she looked down, the ground was streaked with dark crimson, still wet and glistening in the sunlight. Her horse’s hooves splashed through the stains, each thud against the earth echoing the heavy beat of her heart.
Aramis followed closely, his horse matching hers, his eyes scanning the trees for danger.
Then she heard it—a chorus of cries, women, children, and the elderly, their voices tangled with grief and exhaustion.
The villagers had taken shelter beneath the trees, their bodies slumped against the protruding roots, limbs trembling, chests heaving. Some clutched at their injuries, the older ones wrapping arms around the young in desperate attempts to comfort them.
The scene was pitiable. But Lara felt no sympathy, instead her heart was filled with anger. These mothers and elders do not deserve pity at all. Their ignorance was not an excuse for them to risk the lives of the little ones.