From the Author
From the Inside Flap
The two riders came upon theabandoned village under a large full moon.The winter chill had just left the air barely a fortnight ago, but uphere that merely meant that summer was starting.
They rode in, somber and quiet,only their horses' hooves making any sound.The beasts were large and muscled like work horses, but these animalswere far more agile and swift and much more intelligent. They carried their dark riders confidentlythrough the maze of dilapidated buildings, never missing a step. If you were to watch them walk by it wouldappear as if the horses knew where to go on their own, as there were no visiblesignals from the riders.
Both riderswere dressed in long cloaks that billowed out behind them like flags ofwar. The rest of their attire was darkand loosely fitted in layers to keep out the chill. The moon shone brightly upon the metalfastenings of the horse's tackle, and upon the shiny dagger each of themcarried at the ready upon their belts.The daggers were made of a blackish metal, but still had a sheen to themas if they were just polished.
The hoods of their cloaks werepulled up over their heads so you could not see their faces. But if they were to look upon you their eyessparkled like lightning. They rodethrough the corpses of houses and shops like Death itself come to claim thelost land.