raight, her first venture out into the wilderness a thrilling experience.
Andre and Philippe rode ahead and behind her. She couldn''t see their expressions, but she could sense the tense and heavy aura emanating from the men, dampening any mood in her to admire the scenery around.
Nearby accompanying them was a patriot named Old Dupierre, an impressive figure with a hard, hairy, reddish-brown square face. Before the revolution, he was probably a butcher.
Suddenly, Edith heard the sound of some animal.
"The hoot of an owl! Rebels are nearby!" Old Dupierre immediately held up his gun in alert.
Andre instinctively stretched his arm backwards, trying to shield Edith.
Edith forced herself to calm down and cautiously looked around.
Nothing happened. Only the whistling of the wind echoed in their ears.
As they emerged from the forest, they saw the village in the distance.
They passed a solitary mill. A middle-aged man stood at the door of the small cabin next to it, arms crossed, staring at them with hostility.
Three heads appeared at the small window: a peasant woman with a headscarf, and two children, one big and one small, all peering at them with wary eyes.
Edith suppressed her heartbeat, quietly grasping the pistol under her skirt.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!" With a series of deafening gunshots, the entire family fell to the ground in an instant.
Edith looked panic-stricken at Old Dupierre, who was smugly putting away his long-barrelled gun.
"Kneel!" a cold and stern voice echoed.
Andre drew his sword from his waist and pressed it against the butcher''s shoulder. His face was pale in rage, blue veins standing out on his hand gripping the hilt of the sword, his blonde hair fluttering in the wind, as if a god presiding over judgment.
The short and sturdy bod opened his mouth, seemingly attempting to argue, yet overwhelmed by the majesty of the man before him. He went down on his knees and lowered his head.
"What do you want? Turn here into another Nantes?!" ①Andre questioned sharply. His slim fit military uniform clung to his chest, which heaved up and down, as if he were trying to restrain strong emotions of grief and anger.
Old