Thierry had never been so cold in his life. He had slept on plains beneath the stars and even in the snow. He had been without fuel for a fire on a winter night. He had been miles from a welcoming yurt when a storm rose suddenly.
But he had never been so chilled as he was that night, waiting for Eustache beneath the third bridge. Being wet made the difference. Indeed, he feared that he might freeze before the other man arrived.
He stamped his feet and he paced. He swung his arms and he reminded himself that it was far far colder on the steppes than under the bridge. He blew on his fingers and jumped up and down.
All the same, his teeth were chattering when he heard the hoof beats of a horse, the sound so loud that he thought it might lead to his discovery. Thierry was startled when he h
