Chapter Twelve'Here we are.' Melcorka wiped the sweat from her forehead as she eased Catriona onto the broad river. It flowed southward through a land so endless, it seemed infinite. The banks were sometimes wooded and sometimes bare, but always dotted with villages that had once held a thriving population and were now smoking ruins.
'Look.' Bradan pointed to the bank of the river where scuff marks, footprints and a single corpse marred the beauty. 'This is where the slavers moored their boats. You can see the posts where the mooring ropes were tied and the marks where the people boarded them.'
'We are following their trail,' Melcorka said. She could nearly feel their presence, smell their sweat, hear their deep, sombre voices, taste the sweetness of their food and see the dark glint of
