Vidal's Honor by Sherry Gloag

“They are not as comfortable or easy to ride as the horses Dev and I had.” A brief image of the columns of soldiers streaming away behind them as they marched towards Salamanca flashed through her mind. Shifting in the saddle, she glanced over her shoulder. Juan took the lead on the single track through the woods, followed by Consuela and herself with Vidal bringing up the rear.
    The sparse sunshine filtering between the leaves of the thick canopy above created dark shadows on the path and left the air dank and humid.
    â€œI never thought I’d admit to wanting to see the sunlight, when we have complained for most of our journey about the heat and lack of fresh water.”
    â€œTrue.” Vidal brought his mule closer. “Although relying on water from the streams is not always wise, at least not until we climb higher. Juan says he knows routes the soldiers will never discover and will take us along them.”
    â€œI hope he may be right. Callous as it sounds, I admit the money you found back at the village last week has at least allowed us to carry a little wine to cover the times when we have failed to find safe water to drink. The generosity of the people we’ve met along the way never fails to amaze me. They have so little but are still willing to share their own supplies which are so scarce.”
    â€œI will never cease to be amazed…”
    A scream cut off Vidal’s words.
    â€œWhat the—“
    If he’d intended to pass Honor, she forestalled him by digging her heels into her mule’s sides. If Consuela was in trouble she needed to help the woman. The thought ousted her normal common sense as she entered an unexpected open flat expanse of the sunlit clearing and discovered the cause of the Spanish woman’s distress.
    Women and children, their dishevelled clothes rent and muddy, covered the ground like broken dolls.
    She’d seen atrocities while marching with the army, but never on this scale. The numbers — she couldn’t begin to count them as they lay piled one on top of the other in places. Bile rose to her throat and she leaned over to release it.
    â€œCome away.”
    Vidal’s harsh voice impinged on her shock and stiffened her spine.
    â€œWe need to search for survivors.”
    Did she believe the perpetrators of this massacre had left any witnesses? Of course not, but how to walk away without checking? The sound of Consuela sobbing in Juan’s arms drew her attention away from the horrifying scene. Even the birds had ceased their singing, and within the seclusion of the clearing not a breath of wind stirred.
    â€œThere is nothing we can do for them. “
    Juan’s harsh edict drew her attention.
    â€œThey are too many of them for us to even offer them the decency of burial. And if we remain here too long—“His voice trailed away. Honor recognised the truth of his words, conveyed as they were, in the dark hatred sparking from his eyes.
    She nodded, and looked back to see Vidal’s faced leeched of all colour as he stared at the horrific scene. “It grieves me to say it, but I agree with Juan. And it goes against everything I’ve learned while following the drum. I tended many sick and injured over the years, and the thought of walking away—“ She waved her arm in the direction of the dead, and discovered it shook violently.
    â€œCome.” Juan’s command cut through the silence. “We must leave this place now.”
    â€œDon’t look.”
    Vidal’s instruction came too late. How could she not? Much as she wanted to turn away, she searched for survivors as they moved round the edge. Hopeless, she acknowledged.
    â€œI suppose you witnessed something similar in the village?”
    Vidal rode so close beside her, his knee pressed against hers on the narrow path. He nodded, his eyes flat, his face expressionless. Shock, she realised. For a man who, like Devlin, had fought in