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Rogero had no choice but to leave the horses. His men were dying. He had to return them home as soon as possible.
He hated to turn the horses loose, to fend for themselves in the snow, but he couldn’t transport them the way he could move the men, at great speed while they lay unconscious. The horses might hurt themselves thrashing against the enclosures. Better to set them free than to have to kill them, even though killing them would supply his men with more meat.
But they weren’t staying. They didn’t need to lay in supplies for a long and brutal winter.
A comfortable palace and prosperous city awaited Rogero and his men on the eastern shore. They were a month or more away from it now, but only if they returned the way they came.
But Rogero had skills beyond those of an ordinary c
