CHAPTER NINETEEN
Thorgrin trekked through the endless fields of mud in the Land of the Druids, looking out at the horizon and hoping to see something, anything; instead, there was nothing but desolation, nothing to break up the monotony of the landscape, which seemed to stretch forever. Dark clouds glowered, hung low in the air, low enough to nearly touch, completing the picture of gloom.
It was the exact picture of the Underworld that Thor remembered, when he had been marching through the wasteland of the Empire. Yet Thor forced himself to remember, to know that he was not in the Empire. He was in the Land of the Druids, he told himself. All that he saw before him was a creation of his mind. He was not walking through a landscape, he knew, but walking through the contours of his own min
