“Horses,” Alex whispered.
She heard them now too. The sharp clip-clop of hooves on the cobblestoned street outside.
“They won’t find us,” she whispered back. “They didn’t see us come in, and those pigs can have no traffic with either churches or prayers.” She pulled the little boy behind a column beside the altar and crouched down beside him. “But we will stay here awhile and wait for them to go away.”
Alex shivered and drew closer to her. “What if they do come?”
“They won’t.” She slid an arm around his shoulders. He was thinner than he had been last week, she realized in concern, and he had been coughing all day. The scraps of food she had managed to salvage from the deserted farmhouses outside the town had barely been enough to keep them alive.
“What if they do?” Alex repeated.
Heavens, he was persistent. “I said they-” She stopped. She didn’t know the duke’s soldiers wouldn’t come, she thought wearily. She could not be sure of anything or anyone. She doubted if those monsters would come to worship, but they might come to loot and burn again. “If they come, we will hide here in the shadows and be very quiet until they leave. Can you do that?”
He nodded, his weight heavier against her. “I’m cold, Marianna.”
“I know. As soon as we hear them leave, we’ll look for shelter for the night.”
“Can we light a fire?”
She shook her head. “But maybe we can find a blanket for you.”