Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #14 May 2015 | Seite 80

The Captain had left his men to set up camp and had
been on his way to an officers meeting so he had, in
fact, not noticed. But as the horse line was on his way
he changed his course to see what the problem was.
To the lancers their horses were their lives and no true
lancer would ignore something that could attack the
horses.

“Jonesey?”
Smith looked up to see the man next to him, Jones was
staring down into the sand he had been digging, staring at the jumble of human bones he had just discovered as he lifted his last shovel full of sand.
#

The horse lines had been strung on the far side of the
camp, away from any attack coming from the direction of the rebel town and fort.
The Lancers’ well trained horses were on the inner line
and while clearly alert did not seem afraid. The draft
horses on the outer line however were a different matter; eyes rolling, foam flecking from their mouths and
many covered in a sheen of sweat. They were tugging
at the lines and the posts that held those lines. As the
lancers arrived one post was beginning t