Tag: Dorothy Winsor

by Dorothy Winsor in Issue 108, January 2021 Alitha leaned over to pick up the water bucket, then struggled erect, hand on her belly. The baby was kicking again. “Soon, sweetheart,” she murmured and stepped outside into the clearing Taemas had cut to build their cabin. Beyond it, the trees of the Wildlands loomed with…

by Dorothy Winsor in Issue 72, January 2018 From the hilltop, my father focuses the spyglass on the fur clad man leading thirty mounted soldiers toward the town gates. When a stork-legged sentry steps forward to hail them and presumably ask their business, one of the men casually kicks the sentry in the head. The…