Chapter 11
Chapter Four
They were of a kind, then
the histories writ large
in tattooed tracery
the tales a tracking
of old wounds
but something glowed hard
in their eyes—those
flame-gnawed arches,
that vanishing span,
they are their own past
each in turn destined
to fall in line
on the quiet wayside
beside the river
they refuse to name . . .
THE BRIDGEBURNERS (IV.I)
TOC THE YOUNGER (B.1141)