The Mongoliad: Book Two (The Foreworld Saga) - Plot & Excerpts
The room did have a solid door, though, and once closed, Andreas and Rutger had a modicum of privacy. Rutger moved with a stiffness that could easily be mistaken for formality of bearing, but Andreas knew Rutger suffered from a malady of the joints that sapped his strength. The older brother was like a moribund oak, dried and brittle, and the persistent fog that clung to the trees around Legnica made his hands and feet swell. Growing up, Andreas had seen similar afflictions take hold of craftsmen and laborers in his village. The pain could render a man unable to walk, and at its worst, would steal away his ability to work at his trade, a fate worse than death for many. Rutger, however, still walked straight-backed, with a pained dignity that made him gruff at the best of times, and at the worst, angry and quick to judge. “What were my orders in regard to the Livonians?” he snapped. He sat down slowly, in painful stages, on the greenish bench.
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