The dark tower of its central keep danced in the heat waves that rose off the land, surrounded by equally dark walls.A deep, slow-moving river irrigated the fields and the groves of fruit trees that radiated from the village like the spokes of a wheel. The wind brought the smell of the minn’hor droppings commonly used as fertilizer. Swarms of blue-gray treehens scuttled across the land, screeching as they hunted for parasites.Kahless used the back of his hand to rid his brow of perspiration. Removing his water bladder from his saddle, he untied the thong that held its neck closed, lifted, and drank. At least they’d had no shortage of water as they traveled north, away from Molor’s capital—and the river up ahead would provide them with even more.He wished the same were true of their food supplies. Their military provisions had run out long ago, and thanks to the famine the year before, it was almost impossible to find fresh game for the fire. As a result, they’d had to subsist on a diet of groundnuts and stringy yolok worms.“I wouldn’t mind stopping here,”
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