Making her way back to the house from the chicken coop, she was almost at the back entrance to the house, when something moved on her from the shadows, sinking a blade into her side, and a firm hand over her mouth.
“No sound, miss,” the accompanying gruff voice ordered.
Her attacker covered her nose with a rag drenched in something sickly sweet and she lost all will to fight.
No, no sounds, she reasoned with herself. As though she were no more than a sack of wheat, she was tossed over the man’s oxen shoulders and carried into the opposite woods. Stopping amidst undergrowth too thick to see beyond, she was dropped from the burly brigand’s shoulders into the backseat of a motor vehicle. It was too difficult to make out who was absconding with her, even more frightening as a sash was tie
