A Time of Dread (Of Blood and Bone #1)

by John Gwynne

who were led by a maggot that men called a hero, Corban the Bright Star.

The sun was a line of fire on the edge of the world

there were worse things than foxes that came south from the Bonefells when winter fell like a hammer-blow upon the north.

The wind sighed through them, sounding like a thousand voices, whispering.

Sometimes age doesn’t mellow and soften, sometimes it twists and toughens, squeezing all the kindness out of a soul.

Keld sat there grim and dour, a scowl looking to have been etched through his face with a plough.

clinging like a lizard to a sun-baked wall.

A stench of decay and putrefaction rolled out from the mound clawing into Riv’s nose and mouth like rotting fingers.