Turning his back on the enemy, Hadjar looked at the faces of his people. None of them had aged in the past few days. Time hadn’t touched them, even though they’d been robbed of the powers they had gained while cultivating. The General had not allowed it. He had aged instead of them. His body had grown weaker, not theirs. And by the Evening Stars, if he could have, if he only could have, he would have gladly died in their place. Twice, thrice, or even ten times over, as many times as it took.
He saw the soldiers of the Moon armies of Lidus and Balium. They were greeting their General with a hand over their hearts. He saw the desert dwellers of the Sea of Sand standing side by side with those who had served Sankesh, all pressing their fingers to their lips and foreheads, praying that the Ev
