Rob stared blankly at the church bell tower. He did not quite understand what it meant.
Then, amid a rush of hoofbeats, several Doro Town militia riders on small mountain horses came racing in panic from the distant gorge.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
Enemy attack?
What enemy attack!?
Rob was still dazed at first. By the time he understood, chaos had engulfed everything around him. The herders led their cattle and horses toward whatever places they thought were safe.
The old herder held his little grandson tight. The old cow that had been following close behind him showed remarkable understanding at that moment. As though she too knew how urgent the situation was, she charged up in front of Rob, her hooves flying, and used the broken horns on her forehead to batter a path through.
The tax collector, who had earlier haughtily announced the new taxes to the herders, was now fleeing in disarray with a squad of tax soldiers, running ahead of Rob.
With herders and dairy cows blocking their way, the tax soldiers loyally helping the tax collector escape even raised their swords and mercilessly slashed at the herders, provoking still greater chaos.
The wounded herders screamed and dodged aside or fell to the ground to await death, not daring to resist the tax soldiers who represented their lord's authority. But the livestock they led had no such understanding.
However docile the dairy cows might have been, once they were slashed, their instinct to survive sent them galloping wildly. The cattle running amok and crashing into everything only added to the chaos.
Seeing this, Rob pulled hard on Heidi's lead and headed back with his little grandson in his arms. Under the old cow's protection, he returned to the oak platform and stood still beside it.
It