Book3:WereMyDreamIs
sthatend.KingDimitri’swarriorsalsomadeuseofthistimetowalkovertoMr.Kaffeetroupandreahebattlegroundcametoastandstill.Therewerehundredsofthedeadandwoundedlyingontheground.Theairermeatedwiththemetallicsmelloffreshbloodasalmosthalfofbotharmieshadperished.Thesulesslyandunsteadilynotquitereagthemiddleofthesky,coldlywatgthebattlegroundfullofheadlesscorpsesandmutitedbodies.Thedeadweredead,butthemoansandgroansofthewoundedwereheartwrengireme;forknowinggoingbaealiveossibledream,theywishedonlyforaquickdeathasextricationfromtheunbearablepaintheywereexperieng. Witheyesnarrowedintoslits,Ats’gncesweptovertheextelefieldaeredhisattentiononthecampofKingDimitri’snativewarriors,whohadalreadybeenre-athemoment