They entered the courtyard—into the castle hall.
Had its dwellers fled along the muddy roads and fields of Belgium
No
Some women still—
A young one, watching for escape
Another with graying hair and soft eyes. She had stayed. Her sins perhaps would be forgiven on the Altar of Sacrifice. Burning anguish.
She had sinned against God.—Against her husband. Long ago.
Remorse still clung in her heart.
Igor drew back—but was pushed on by others, rude, boisterous, toward the wine cellars.