Chapter Eighteen
A cart rumbled by and Etta jumped back to avoid being hit, colliding with an older man behind her. She peered up into his drawn face.
“I’m sorry.”
He grumbled something unintelligible and went on his way.
A hand gripped her elbow. Edmund. He led her past the bustling marketplace where a young boy sold loaves of bread outside a bakery and the line at the dressmakers wrapped around the side of the building.
At the center of the village was an open space. When Etta rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks. A stand had been erected in the center of the square and a man’s body was held upright by two pikes. Flies buzzed about his face. The villagers avoided coming near, but Etta couldn’t stop herself. She recognized his bloated face immediately. She’d probably ne
