"Major!"
"Did you kill the bastard?" Ben asked, glancing up from beside his father's freshly dug grave.
"No, sir, but…"
"Unless you bear news of Simcoe's death, cease your words for nothing else matters."
The youthful private sunk to his knees before Ben and clasped his shoulders. "Sir, you have to come now. It is your sister-in-law."
Ben paled, his eyes flashed with terror. "Prudence is in Groton. She…" His words diminished. He started to shake. This was a nightmare. It was not real.
Caleb helped Ben to his feet. It was real. It was a living nightmare. "We will do this together."
They found her in the woods lifeless, her eyes gaping wide and mouth open with contortion. Death lived in those pained eyes. Her face was tilted toward the forest in search of help that never came. Both of her shoulders pierced with stakes, binding her to the cold ground. Her legs spread eagle, bloody and bound. Dried semen clung to her thighs smeared with crusty blood. Her nipples had been chewed off. Already the ants mauled into the fresh juices of her wounds.
Ben stared down at her tear-streaked cheeks, bile rising in his throat, wondering just how many of Redcoats had fucked her before breaking her neck. She had been his brother's wife. She was in Ben's care since his death. She had suffered an immoral murder because of him.
Ben fell to his knees, bellowing with rage and pain. Caleb sunk beside his brother in arms and both men wept for all that they had lost. Tonight they would mourn, tomorrow they would seek revenge. Simcoe would pay. He and everyone around him.