Sold Into Marriage by Sue Lyndon

think of the reason. Someone had wanted to hurt, perhaps kill, the soldiers. She knew many of the villagers from Monnaka didn’t care for King Baltus or his soldiers, but no one had ever attempted to harm any of them. The villagers paid their taxes, albeit grudgingly, but had never before challenged the crown beyond a small, peaceful protest during tax collection time.
    “Stay here,” Varron repeated, more firmly this time. “I must help put the flames out and hunt down the scoundrel who set the fires.”
    Norm drew his sword, smaller than the one Varron and the older soldiers carried, and stood bravely next to Meadow. “I will keep the lady safe, sir.”
    “See that you do. I’m leaving half of the soldiers here, just in case.” Varron took off then, running up the hill with half of his troop accompanying him.
    Norm thrust a canteen of water into her hands. Eager to soothe the burning in her throat, she drank the whole thing. Tall shadows moved around the flames as the men quickly put the fires out. She hoped no harm came to Varron. Her heart raced and her anxiety increased.
    She sat down on a blanket Norm had placed upon the ground and prayed for her husband’s safe return. The hours passed far too slowly. Her heart ached at the thought of him getting hurt. Someone wanted him and the other soldiers dead, not just harmed. Setting over a dozen tents aflame wasn’t a prank or a minor protest against the crown, by any means. It was practically an act of war.
    She considered all the villagers she knew and tried to guess the responsible party. Not just one man, she supposed, but several, given the number of fires that had been set. Vaguely, she wondered if her stepfather had any involvement. He’d been more outspoken against the crown than most, though she’d always thought it was because he hated using any money he might spend on mead on taxes.
    “You can sleep if you’d like, milady,” Norm said, clutching his sword. He looked eager for a challenge. The other young soldiers and half of the troop that had been left behind was crowded around her, talking quietly amongst themselves while keeping alert and constantly scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger.
    “I can’t sleep until he returns, but thank you, Norm. Wh-who do you think set the fires?”
    “Likely a few disgruntled villagers fro m Monnaka. Our scouts would have spotted foreign enemies entering the territory. I suspect Commander Varron will have the group of misfits rounded up and ready to be hanged by the early morning.”
    A chill descended on Meadow. She knew her new husband had probably killed his share of men during battle, but she had never considered him meting out justice in the form of a public hanging. He’d been so gentle and patient with her, it was difficult to reconcile that he would sentence the arsonists to death. She gulped past the lump that had formed in her throat and wished this night nothing but a bad dream.
    The dispatched soldiers began returning one at a time to her group as the sun rose, but still there was no sign of Varron. She wanted to approach one of the returning soldiers and inquire about her husband’s well-being, but she feared the answer too much, so she stayed on her blanket. She clutched the fur around her shoulders and kept her gaze trained on the hill. Praying. Always praying.
    The soldiers brought the horses and what supplies could be salvaged from the camp back with them, as well as a few cargo wagons. She recognized Varron’s trunk, because it had a unique carving on the side. He’d placed the belongings he’d retrieved from her home in the trunk last night, but she didn’t care about her dresses and her other few belongings. She only cared about Varron. What was taking so long?
    A loud drumming noise floated down from the village. She shot Norm a questioning look. The young soldier’s expression grew somber.
    “Just as I suspected. A hanging is taking place. The commander has caught those