by
Published on 04-19-2012 11:21
The Musket and the Sword
Frigid winds whipped needles of snow into Gulliemont's cheeks. He shivered and clutched at his bearskin coat with fingers turned numb from the cold Moscow winter. His breath fogged the air before his eyes and left a trail of frost on his collar. Cold sweat soaked the uniform he'd worn every day since the Grande Armee began the Russian campaign
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