The noise was ear-shattering and, as they rode right up to what had once been a village, they could distinguish patches of colour from torn clothing, a brass bowl glittering in the sunshine and small household treasures broken and dusty.
But the full horror of the disaster became apparent when they saw lifeless bodies lying outstretched among the debris.
As Tyrone Strome swung himself down from the saddle of his horse, Nevada noticed a man climbing over the broken ground towards them and perceived with surprise that he was in European dress.
It was, as he reached them, that she saw round his neck he wore a white clerical collar with a patch of black cloth beneath it.
Tyrone Strome had been giving his horse into the charge of a young boy, instructing him where to take it, then, as he tu
