19 April 2016

Shot.


“Disperse, damn you!” Pitcairn bellowed, now furious, his voice strained, almost shrieking. “Throw down your arms and disperse!” His horse reared and Pitcairn fought to keep the steed under control, his face red.

If only they would obey, Henry thought. There was no sense in this.

Then came a voice from among the provincials. Henry did not hear the words. It did not even have the tone of an order, but Henry somehow knew the voice was that of their captain.

The company of provincials slowly began to break apart. The men drifted backwards. They did not lay down their arms, but backed away slowly. Henry noticed a few still remained in place, glaring at the line of Regulars.

Henry saw satisfaction on Pitcairn’s face.

And then heard the shot.

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