The night was heavy with silence, broken only by the creak of wheels and the steady clop of the mule's hooves.
A cart rolled slowly down the lonely road, lanterns swaying, light flickering across the sleeping children.
In the moving cart was a family of four.The father held the reins tight, his eyes darting to the dark line of trees on either side of the path.
Then…the sound of quick footsteps could be heard.Faint at first, then multiplying, quickening.
The father's heart thudded. He snapped the reins. The mule strained forward, the cart jolting. The mother stirred awake, clutching her youngest.
"What is it?" she whispered.
The man squinted his eyes into the darkness beyond.
"I can hear voices…" He didn't finish his sentence when shadows broke from the treeline—riders, cloaked, arme
