They followed the course of a river for many miles. Pausing beneath the shade of a clump of overhanging trees, they drank water, and nibbled at the last of the salted biscuits Tawny pulled from one of the saddle bags. “We"ll need to find some food if we"re to survive this,” he said, picking away the corner of his biscuit where a green mould grew. “My guts feel as empty as a saloon on the Sabbath.”
Grunting, Han jutted his chin towards the horses. “We may have to eat one of them. They are starving, too, and will die anyway.”
“I suppose you"re right. Bad luck follows me everywhere I go,” said the prisoner escort, voice sounding heavy with dejection. “I should never have taken this job.”
“But you did, and here we are.”
“Maybe we"ll come upon a town.”
“Maybe.” The Okinawan spread himself
