Click here to read from Chapter One. Chapter Forty Five Jorjah: The Arming Black smoke filled the skies. Hammering, loud in the icy air. In the south, the snow was off the land, but here icy drifts, melted and refrozen remained. The Iron Mountain was alive with people, more folk than Jorjah had ever imagined in any one place, more than in the largest town of the south that she had dared to enter in her year-long journey in search of the King. Spear, sword and gun flowed out of the workshops, made from the accumulated iron stock of hundreds of years of slow and patient mining and smelting. The Eldest had been alive that long, planning, plotting. No one knew how long. No one could remember when the Eldest hadn't been eldest, old when grannies were girls. Jorjah avoided her.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
The Tale Of Jon Handshaker Chapter 45
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