Slaughter
Wholesale Killing “I’m sure something bad has happened,” the old woman said, fluttering her ever-present fan. “She was regular as clockwork and we’ve had no messages for a fortnight. Here’s a small map and her name; go find out.” I grabbed my forelock and she swatted at me. So off I went again, on a mission with almost no information. The farm I found was well-tended and looked prosperous, but a troop of British cavalry or grenadiers had camped in a pasture. That was surely a problem. I found...