Chapter - 87
"I'm happy you got out of there alive," Thorne said, his gravelly voice low enough not to carry over the din.
The Iron Mug Inn was a warm haven on a chilly evening, full of rowdy conversations and the occasional drunken laugh. At a corner table, Jacob Turner sat opposite Thorne. The older man set down two mugs of frothy ale, sliding one across the worn table to Jacob.
Jacob lifted his mug, took a long drink, and set it down with a deep sigh. "Yeah, for a while there, I wasn't so sure I would. Thought that damn place would be my tomb."
Thorne leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing his friend. "So, what's the army planning to do about it? They won't just let all those soldiers' deaths slide, right?"
