” Roland sat down, cross-legged, with Rusher’s trailing reins in his lap. He breathed deep, inhaling the scent of pine-tar and Depape’s sweat. It took the riders longer to reach her position than she would have expected, and when they finally got there, she saw why. The pigeon flew to it.
“Don’t thank me yet. Wagons filled with squashes clogged the roads; bright orange drifts of pumpkins and bright magenta drifts of sharproot lay against the sides of barns. I’ll do you boys proud, count on me. This afternoon that didn’t happen.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.