By the Sword
“Thrrm.The beat of the drum, as steady and relentless as the rain, was the only sound in the village square as the wretched group of men staggered out of the church. Dirty, unshaven and reeking, they still wore the tattered vestiges of a once-proud blue uniform—the shabby remnants of the King's army. Blinking in the light and oblivious to the rain, they stared in bewilderment and disbelief at the five hastily erected gibbets that faced them.The stony-faced drummer continued his steady cadence as... the prisoners shuffled into line. Watching from his vantage point beside his drummer, Captain Stephen Prescott, resplendent in the scarlet uniform of the New Model Army, scanned the line of men, seeking out the face of his nemesis.Little distinguished Jonathan Thornton from his men, except his height. He staggered forward with his head bowed. Only as the trooper behind him pushed him to the end of the row did he lift his head; Prescott smiled with vicious satisfaction at the sight of the bruised and battered face, the legacy of the savage beating his prisoner had received the night before.Prescott's eyes flicked away from Jonathan Thornton to the fresh-faced boy, barely old enough to grow a beard, who stood beside him.MoreLess
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