Fall 964 MC
The winds coming in from the north were strong and cold, promising an early snowfall. Sergeant Garrick pulled his cloak closer, trying to ward off a chill that penetrated deep into his bones. As a Norland scout, he was mounted on a fleet horse, but, like his companions, they were only lightly armoured, the better to maintain the fast pace of their advance.
He looked to his left, to where Talmus rode beside him. ""Tis a cold day," he said.
"So it is," Talmus responded. "Far too cold to be out here in the middle of nowhere."
"You forget," said the sergeant, "we are close to a village called Uxley. There"ll be warm shelter there, you can be assured."
"I hope so, for my fingers are growing numb."
They had gone no more than a mile when the flakes began to fall, drifting down f
