The Errant Flock by Jana Petken Page B

times a hair’s breadth from where David and Juan desperately tried to dodge the jabbing swords pointed at them from all directions.
    “What do we have here?” a marauder shouted at David, standing with his sword outstretched. “Go on then, dance for us! Make us laugh!”
    David wiped his eyelids and saw the men clearly for the first time. He glanced briefly at each of the assailants. They were not militia but five men he had never seen before. Two of them rode mules whilst two sat on horses without saddles and with thick rope for bridles. Only one of the men, whom David presumed was the leader, had a well-groomed horse, dressed with leather bridle and saddle.
    The men continued to toy with David and Juan. Laughing, they mocked David’s futile efforts to hold them back with his flashing sword.
    David searched his father’s face, still reddened from the scorching heat. Juan clung tightly to the child squirming under his blanket. Her face and body were hidden, but her legs were visible, dangling and swaying with Juan’s rapid twisting body movements.
    His father was looking for a way out of the circular enclosure, but he wouldn’t be able to break through it, David thought. The marauders had them penned in, and after they had tired of their game, they would cut him, his father, and the child down. “What are you waiting for, you whoresons?” he screamed at the horsemen. “Do it! Do it! Get it over with!”
    The marauder’s leader sawed at his horse’s mouth with the bridle and brought it to a complete standstill. The other men followed suit. The expressions on their faces grew serious, and the malicious laughter faded.
    David took a swift step backwards, and with his sword arm still outstretched, he tried to shield his father. Staring up at the leader, he baulked at the man’s arrogant smirk. Who were these men?  He panted harder now, convinced that he was in the dying seconds of his life. The horseman continued to stare at David with nonchalant enjoyment. The fire that surrounded them still raged. Sparks flew in all directions, continuing to make the horses jumpy.
    His mother and brothers …Were they dead? David wondered again. He grunted loudly. Any minute now, he would die too, but why should he be killed like a cornered animal? “Who sent you? Get down here and fight me, you bastards!” he heard his shrill voice shout. “What are you waiting for? Fight me fairly!”
    “Not tonight, lad; maybe some other time,” the leader said, still smirking. “We’ll meet again!” Pivoting his horse, the marauder rode off with his men following behind him.
    David was incensed and his mind devoid of rational thought as he ran screaming obscenities after the horsemen. He sprinted as far as he could, until he was forced to stop because of the searing pain in his chest. Light-headed, he bent over double and panted in short breaths. Finally, after steadying his pulse, he ran back towards the house … It was falling to the ground. The roof was gone, walls were crumbling, and the door had completely disintegrated.
     
    At thirty-nine years old, Juan Sanz had suffered his fair share of loss. But as he stumbled over charred smoking timbers and rocks surrounding his house, he felt like an old man. In so much pain, he craved death rather than suffer his present anguish.
    For a while, the fire had burned strong and fast, but a gusty wind was beginning to extinguish its power. He shouted, and his booming voice overpowered the dying flames, still crackling and snapping pieces of wood. Tears ran down his face as he tried to get as close as possible to the remaining structure. He screamed his wife’s name. “Isabella … Isa! Diego, Juanjo!”
    Running from the front of the house to the back, not once did he lower his ear-piercing shouts for his family. But although he called for them, he had already concluded that no one could have survived the fire or the marauders’ blades. Finally, he sunk to his knees, and his cries