Jason Weiser

"'Get the horse's bridle,' she heard the lead man spit, as the two in front of him, who just saw their friend die in two terrible ways, hesitated for a moment.

Donya knew that there was a reason she kept the blunderbuss loaded and strung across her back."

If the two had moved, they might have saved the third.

But while they caught the blow in the chest, they were dominoes that toppled themselves and their leader over the edge of the cliff.

As quickly as they had appeared, Donya was alone.

Hands shaking, she thought about it.

She had been lucky, incredibly lucky.

She was now without a sword, and these guns took like 20 minutes to reload.

Even if the bandits had been lying about their compatriots down the path, someone would have likely heard the shot.

And she had just killed four people, though heartbroken.

and lost.

She wasn't going to go headlong into a bandit camp, and she wouldn't last long in a prison, stripped of her cloaks and clothes.

As she rode back toward the previous town, though, she thought about what she was doing.

Why?

Why was she going home anyway?

Pedro wasn't there.

In fact, going home would remind her of him at every turn.

And an old man in the capital was waiting to marry her,

And her parents would let her mourn, sure.

But soon, life would return to normal for everyone.