Starved Beast

I saw that one of the soldiers was short and rotund, his belly flopping over the top of his trousers. His face was the color of beetroot. The other man was skinny, tall, with the nose of a Jew and the face of a Devil.

But mostly they were hazy. I still couldn't see them. My eyes were watering, stinging. I couldn't see...

Oh God.

I deduced that these must be brigands; the criminal thugs that Christine had warned me about, men who wore no uniform and expressed no loyalty either to cause or country. These types were brutes, criminals, bullies: the kind that prospers in times of anarchy.

I kept to the shadows, out of the way, but then I saw that one of the soldiers was dragging a woman in his wake. She was wearing a green satin dress with a tight, pointed bodice. The neck was cut square and low, and the front had been meddled with. It was torn. The buttons were open and the breasts were exposed. They were grey, dirty, scratched.

The two of them lifted her to the back of the cave and they