Big Horn River, by the Floating Bridge.
A slender man dressed in Herder's robes stared at the tips of his boots, and spoke intermittently to another group of shabbily clothed men, "The Khan praised us… You've done well, after disbanding, you'll get felt tents, cattle, sheep… and female slaves…"
Despite the rewards, why were the men in such pain?
They showed no joy or pride, only numbness in most of their eyes, and a few bore expressions of anger and unwillingness.
Another gaunt man, his face covered, suddenly yanked off his scarf and spat harshly.
The sound of spitting wasn't loud, but it stung the slender man in Herder's robes as if he were stung by a wasp.
He jerked his head up, scanning the crowd before him and screamed hysterically, "You think you've got guts to run away! You refuse to work! Why blame me? What do you hate? You treat me like a dog of the Herders, but does anyone damn care about me! You…"