Evening claims victory over the daytime by glowing the sky with the honeyed tones of ripe melons and sliced peaches. Brittle strands of grass crunch beneath our horses’ hooves. White foam breezes from their mouths as we conquer the last hill of the day.
“Well done.” I run my fingers through the slick sweat on my stallion’s neck. We’ve been pushing hard to get to the home nestled in the valley before us, the one we left so many moons ago.
It was a frosty late winter morning when we set out on our journey. “Too early. Better wait a few more days,” Father had said, but the gods had spoken. Besides, if we’d waited, we wouldn’t make it home before the snow’s onset—and the rawness in the wind tells us that will be any day now.
We would have arrived earlier, but we stayed on in Hanzhong as
