Chapter 31
AFTER THE KNIGHTS had gone with both the youngsters, first Jevaithi and then Isandor, Milleus slumped against the side of the truck. He felt sore and tired, and incredibly old.
The refugees stood huddled around the truck. A man leaned on another’s shoulders. A woman cried. What were the Knights going to do with the youngsters?
He could sit down and cry himself. He might have been half-decent at running a wartime army, but ever since, he had failed everyone he cared about. Suri, Kalius and Andrean, Sady and now the youngsters.
He stuck his hand through the bars of the trailer and scratched a hairy flank. His goats were the only thing he had left.
The Knights had retreated to a position from where they could watch the truck. He could see six of them, watching like silent stat
