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Bilker felt a hand tearing into his back. The heat from it seemed to shoot all the way up to his head. He couldn't tell if he was alive or dead, and as dreams and reality blurred together, his sense of self became obscured.
‘Mom.’
The one face he yearned for came to mind. His mother had always been kind but also strong in the way of northern women as a widow who raised her son alone.
‘Bilker, Lou promises reincarnation in the afterlife. Being a man doesn't mean you have to fight on the battlefield.’
Bilker’s mother was happy about Lou’s spreading across the north. The northern custom that men must go to battle was slowly fading.
Bilker had also thought he would die in bed, not in battle.
‘But here I am, dying from an arrow.’
He was hit by an arrow. Regardless of what anyone said, a battlefield was still a battlefield.
‘Ulgaro will come for me, Ulgaro will...’
He was afraid that Ulgaro would be the one to come and take his soul.
Two scenes flickered in Bilker's mind. One was a sky bathed in warm sunlight, and the other was a night tormented by a raging storm.
The roar of the...
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