The sky above the northern plains ceased to be winter blue at the third hour of the afternoon.
A high-sky shadow, cast by the sky posture of the moon and the sun across the northern spirit vein, crept over the icy high sky. The light took on the bruised, metal hue of rusted through copper and dried bright red blood. On the frozen ground, the shadows of the willow stone retaining walls stretched long and distorted, their edges blurred by sight diffraction.
The heat dropped to thirty-five degrees below zero.
At that heat, the moisture in the breath froze instantly into a crust of rime upon the wool mufflers of the sentries, and iron weapons became so brittle that dropping a spear onto a granite flat stone slab risked shattering the socket.
In the command bunker beneath Bastion Tower Two, a charcoal fire bowl burned with silent, cherry-red heat.
General Yue Ding stood over the pine map table. She was flanked by four senior colonels and Siege Master Tan Ba. The general’s notched mountain-scale armor creaked as he leaned his weight upon his fists.
The heavy rawhide door curtain was shoved aside.
A figure stumbled into the room, collapsing onto one knee on the wooden walkway planks.
