Reza had seen only one summer in the north, and that was enough. Cold and wet and unruly were these borderlands beneath the range. A people poor in discipline and industry, stubborn and unbowing. But they died just like any other when they raised a rabble. And a dead rebel is a warning to others, bowed or not. The Prince had gone north with his levies and companies. Reza wondered if the people would cheer at his return.
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