Corvus
“Philemos said in wonder. “It’s like a city. Father, do you see?”
Phaestus lifted his head, as weary and lean as a dying vulture. “It’s his army. His curse upon the world.”
Sertorius looked out across the darkened landscape at the vast crescent of campfires which extended for pasangs to the south and east of Machran. He whistled softly. “Phaestus my friend, were I a believing man I would echo you. Never seen anything like it.”
Bosca spat upon the sleet-thickened pelt of the earth. “Machran still... stands, and from what I see this fellow has no campfires to the north of the city, up at the river.
Looks like a way in, boss.”
“Agreed. We’ll follow the riverbank and try for the Mithannon Gate. Come, people; we’re nearly there.”
He turned to the three huddled figures behind him, scarecrows with hair as wild as brambles and eyes sunken into their heads. He bent and grasped one face in his filthy hand, turning it this way and that.
“Bosca, you are a slap-happy prick, you know that?MoreLess
Phaestus lifted his head, as weary and lean as a dying vulture. “It’s his army. His curse upon the world.”
Sertorius looked out across the darkened landscape at the vast crescent of campfires which extended for pasangs to the south and east of Machran. He whistled softly. “Phaestus my friend, were I a believing man I would echo you. Never seen anything like it.”
Bosca spat upon the sleet-thickened pelt of the earth. “Machran still... stands, and from what I see this fellow has no campfires to the north of the city, up at the river.
Looks like a way in, boss.”
“Agreed. We’ll follow the riverbank and try for the Mithannon Gate. Come, people; we’re nearly there.”
He turned to the three huddled figures behind him, scarecrows with hair as wild as brambles and eyes sunken into their heads. He bent and grasped one face in his filthy hand, turning it this way and that.
“Bosca, you are a slap-happy prick, you know that?MoreLess
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