Beyond Night
Crystal Lake Publishingraise the stone-sheathed sword to the darkevery cloak rolled in bloodWerewolffate whispers to the warrior
The girl whispered, “To make such impractical merriment in the face of war and such horrors, how can this be right?”
Weaver gave a soft chuckle, but a great Pict war chief, his facial hair so thick his mouth couldn’t be discerned, laughed loud. All fell silent as the birds sang overhead.
“We walk side by side with death, every day, girl,” the Pict war chief thundered, slapping his grimy right fist against his heart. “Death is a part of life.”
One of his soldiers, another thuggish man sporting a shock of orange hair, said, “Yeah, it is, the last part!”
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