––––––––
CHERRY DUG HER HAND into the wheat she’d harvested prior to her accident, scooped up a portion, and allowed it to run through her fingers. The grains weren’t the plumpest she’d ever seen, but they were dry. It was the rest of the crop she was worried about. Stepping out of the grain store, she surveyed her field. The downpour that had started while she was speaking with Kes had soaked the remaining three-quarters of the field. Other farmers were in a similar position. There were things they could do to mitigate the problem, but basically the harvest would be a disappointment again this year, and unless the weather turned dry again soon, it could be a disaster.
The destruction caused by the Scythians’ biocide seemed to have even affected the climate. She’d never known the season
