He could not remember who had shot him, he said later on, or at what point of the battle. Take us back to the Path of the Beam. He wouldn’t have believed so before tonight, but tonight everything had changed. In front of the tankers, a double handful of riders and armed men were coming together—milling together—in a clumsy defensive line.
2Aunt Cord had been at the stove, wrapped in her dressing gown and with her hair still netted. One body, Susannah saw, had been hung from a lamppost, and that brought back nightmarish memories of the run for the Cra “Death,” he whispered to the stones surrounding him. The mare had been one of her childhood’s favorites.
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