Chapter 24
RAIN PELTED down on the tent roof, whipped up by the wind.
Inside the tent, people sat huddled together in too small a space. Milleus ached all over. The ground was cold and his old limbs unsuited to sitting in such cramped conditions. If he leaned forward, his hips ached, and if he leaned back, someone behind him kept poking an elbow into his side.
Earlier on, he had wanted to go to the truck, but men dressed in black stopped him at the tent entrance. They talked, but he didn’t understand them. None of them spoke Chevakian. No one left the tent.
He had given up the idea that he could control any part of what was happening. He should have listened to the soldiers and left the camp when he still could.
Artan and his wife sat next to him, huddled under a blanket. She was cryi
