For the most part, our ride progressed uneventfully and in near-complete silence, apart from the occasional order from Carter for one of us to inspect a side road or nearby patch of woods for any evidence of an enemy presence. But every time our search would conclude to no avail, although I could not shake a strange feeling that we were not alone. As the day grew late and the weather worse, the light snowfall developing into something akin to a blizzard, we finally made to turn back.
As we rode at an agonizingly sluggish pace—due to the vigorous winds whipping brutally about us, even while the snow had lessened to a point where the icy flurries in the air were barely noticeable—along a narrow stretch of roadway flanked for a mile or so on both sides by densely clustered patches of trees, there came a sudden flash of blinding light, illuminating all the heavens for an instant, and high above us an abrupt and deafening crack. Before I could react, someone close by gave an alarmed shout, and I felt the horse jerk beneath me, dragging swiftly backwards; then a resounding crash split the air, and I gaped, stunned, at the vast mass of fractured wood, split from the great tree towering high above, that now lay precisely where my horse had stood less than a moment before.
Drawing a shuddering breath, I twisted around to behold Carter at my side, an expression of shock frozen on his face, with his hand still clenched so tightly around my horse’s bridle that the knuckles appeared a pale white. Observing my stupefied gaze, he gathered himself without delay, releasing his grip and moving away with a hostile grumble of "Watch yourself, soldier. This is no place for a girl."
I opened my mouth, wishing to reply, but the words were choked off as my body quivered so powerfully I feared I might fall from the saddle. Aware of a gentle hand upon my shoulder, I raised my head and saw Adler next to me, his eyes full of concern. "Are you injured?" he asked quietly.
I managed to shake my head, though still thoroughly shaken, and whispered, "What was that, sir?"
He lifted his gaze high overhead and replied uneasily, "Lightning, it seems."
The word sent an inexplicable tremor of fear through my person. "During a snow storm?"
"I've heard it's pretty rare, but it can happen. Never seen it before myself." He spoke rapidly, unusual, and looked toward Carter now, directing his next words to the major. "Al, I don't think anyone suspected it would be this bad. At this rate, it will be well into the night before we make it back. I think we should find shelter and wait for the worst of the storm to pass. It could freeze us to stay in the open like this. It's too dangerous."
Carter did not seem to hear, his eyes instead searching the area around us intently. Confused, I looked as well, following his gaze, but saw nothing. Then it hit me, the understanding of the source for his uncertainty, and a strange fear began to take root in my mind, a premonition of unknown danger. Hester had said scarcely a word throughout the entire ride, and now he was nowhere to be seen.
Adler seemed to reach the same realization and began to call out Hester's name, attempting to raise his voice over the roar of the storm. It's no use, Lieutenant, I thought. He will not hear, not with this wind.
But behind us, I perceived an urgent cry and spun to glimpse the figure of Hester galloping toward us. He shouted again, waving his arms frantically, the word reaching us now.
"Major!"
Carter rode forward to meet him, calling out in apprehension, "What is it; what's wrong?"
"Redcoats, sir!" Hester's eyes were filled with panic, and he yanked his horse to a halt as he came alongside Carter. "Seven or eight of them! On the road behind us!"
