CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Cole
They cross the expanse of the plains in silence, travelling through the night, their thoughts blacker than the darkness. Cole, at the head of the ragged line of broken, defeated horse-soldiers, concentrates on the way his horse’s hooves blow up tiny dust devils with each step. In the night, the land appeared white, the recent snowfalls making no noticeable change to the uniform greyness of the earth. Sustained downpours of either snow or rain would need to fall for months for any green to reappear. Perhaps it might happen, but not this night. The wind, a mere ghost of what could be, barely ruffled the mane of his horse. Above him, the sky is cloudless, the stars twinkling as if they too mocked him. He should never have come on this journey. He should have refused
