I HORSEWHIP AN OFFICER

Too Long; Didn't Read

We passed days of mental anguish—hearing nothing, knowing nothing—and then one evening a single Kash Guard rode up to Father’s house. Juana and I were there with Mother. The fellow dismounted and knocked at the door—a most unusual courtesy from one of these. He entered at my bidding and stood there a moment looking at Mother. He was only a lad—a big, overgrown boy, and there was neither cruelty in his eyes nor the mark of the beast in any of his features. His mother’s blood evidently predominated, and he was unquestionably not all Kalkar. Presently he spoke. “Which is Julian 8th’s woman?” he asked; but he looked at Mother as though he already guessed. “I am,” said Mother. The lad shuffled his feet and caught his breath—it was like a stifled sob. “I am sorry,” he said, “that I bring you such sad news,” and then we guessed that the worst had happened.