Chapter Twenty
L awrence clung to the saddle by instinct, barely conscious. Fortunately, his horse knew where to go. The pain under his ribs was a constant, nagging scream along his nerves. Blood seeped out and soaked his clothing. He was cold... so cold...
Hot . . . so hot . . .
Disembodied voices . . . “It will be a miracle if he survives . . .” Sobbing . . .
Who would cry for me? My family are all dead...
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