She backed away slowly. But then one of the men saw her. He whooshed toward her, grabbed her arm, and dragged her out into the clearing, squeezing tight.
Another man bent toward her. “Is she one of them?” he asked, his breath sour and terrible.
“Let’s see if they’ll Jew us out of the ransom,” said the first man. “She might not be worth that much to them.” Then he tightened his grip on her arm, and then they were moving, and Blima was trying not to cry. What was she worth to her family? They had told her not to wander away. She’d been disobeying rules all day.
Then there was a commotion, Blima couldn’t see what was happening. All of a sudden, she was sitting on the ground. Then the man who’d been holding her went wheeling into the trees, and he fell too.
Blima stood up. Harpo was there.
