was left there for a full minute, trying my hardest not to cry. I was about to jump on my horse when I heard sharp movements against the tree.

It was the figure I had been following. A male, wearing black clothing.

I followed him. I couldn't see his face; it was covered with a piece of woolen fabric.

Before my eyes, he bent to pick up a bow and pulled an arrow from behind. His hands held a crossbow and an arrow that had been fixed properly for a shot.

As I moved closer, he released the arrow in the bow, picking up another arrow that was on the...