Bulen was speaking again. “They wrapped her in white robes and put her on their sleigh, as if she were a princess. By then the soldiers were back, circling us. And I couldn’t think of anything else to do but wait and see what would happen. It just seemed the only proper thing to do was to be in that huddle of people.”

I asked the question. “You think they believed Bee was the boy they were looking for? The Unexpected Son?”

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Bulen hesitated. “So they behaved, sir. After they had her, they stopped seeking for him.”

“I remember all that,” Diligent said as I was still trying to picture Bee as a boy. “I was in the cottage, putting a mend in Tallerman’s good jacket and thinking about the fun we’d have at Midwinterfest. He was such a dancer!” Her voice caught on a sob, but she went on, “I was fretting that Perseverance had outgrown his good shirt and wondering if I could let it out any more for one more wearing. Then, suddenly, for no reason I can think of now, I decided I wanted to go up to the manor. I didn’t wait, I left the cottage just as I was and walked up to the manor. Everyone from the cottages was going, just as if it were time for Winterfest, but no one was laughing or talking. We just all wanted to go to the manor. On the way, I walked right past the stables. They were on fire but I didn’t think that was terrible. I didn’t stop or call out to anyone …” Her voice faltered and I saw her wonder if her husband and father-in-law had still been alive; if she could have had one last word with them.

“Everyone was already dead, Ma.” Perseverance spoke the words aloud, and the woman gave a sudden sob. She clutched her son as if he were the last bit of floating wreckage in a stormy sea. Her grief strangled her into silence.

Bulen spoke into that gulf. “Yes. The cottage folk came, and the children. The children were coming willingly, but some of the soldiers were mocking them. I saw one of the men seize a little kitchen girl …”

The color left his face and his mouth fell ajar. For a time, none of us spoke. “They were brutes,” Diligent said at last. “And we were like sheep. I watched the stables burn, and we heard the screams of the horses left inside. Some of the beasts must have broken loose, for a few fled. I just watched the flames and I didn’t even wonder where my husband was, or my son. It was just a thing that was happening.”

“Did they take Lady Shun?” Chade’s voice was heavy with fear. It was unlike him to interrupt anyone giving such a complete telling of events, but I knew he could not stand the suspense. He had to know. I didn’t blame him.

“Yes. They did.” Bulen spoke with certainty. “It happened later. It was evening. They had placed Bee on the sleigh. I seem to remember the woman urging the soldiers to leave as soon as possible. But the soldiers were looting and feasting on food from the kitchens and … taking the young women. The women were … empty. As if they did not care or notice, and one man complained it was not … satisfactory. The kind woman finally talked them into leaving, but the angry soldier dragged Shun away from the others. She was resisting, when no one else was. He threw her down in the snow. And he, he began to, he intended to rape her.”

Lant made a sound in the back of his throat. I glanced at him. His face was in his hands. Chade was as pale as chalk but silent.

“She was fighting back, but not with any hope of winning. And I, I was just watching it happen. As you watch snow fall or wind move in the trees. I am so ashamed to say that. Not a man of Withywoods objected or raised a hand to stop him. But suddenly Bee came running and threw herself on the man. He flung her aside, but Bee was shouting that she would die if they hurt Shun. And a whole swarm of the pale people attacked the soldier then and dragged him off Lady Shun.”

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“Then she was not violated?” Chade barely had breath to push the words out.

Bulen looked at him. He flushed a deep scarlet and lowered his eyes in shame. “Then? No. But before then, or after they took her, I cannot say.” He lifted his gaze and met Chade’s eyes with honest pain. “I consider it likely.”

Lant groaned aloud.

Chade rose abruptly. “A moment,” he said in a voice I did not recognize, and hurried out of the room.

“Lad.” Bulen spoke quietly. “Please forgive me for doubting you.”

Before Perseverance could speak, his mother let out a loud wail. “All I had left, and I turned you from my door! What would your father have said to me? Oh, son, son, whatever shall we do now? How shall we earn our bread?” She clutched at Perseverance and sobbed against him. The boy had gone pale. He gave me a look and then spoke to her bowed head.

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