Lind did not know how long she slept, but when she woke the moon was halfway across the sky and the stars were twinkling brightly around him above the dark canopy. She thought she had heard something or seen something; she always slept with one eye open. To her left a twig snapped. She had heard something. She strained her ears in the silence. Slow footsteps, heavy, armoured. There were twelve. The fire was still burning enough to give off a little light, light which glinted off cold steel. Continue reading
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