He dropped his face into his hands for a moment, and when he lifted it again, there were tears on his cheeks from eyes already red. “They’d gotten together, you see; one of the wolves had finally proved the strongest, and they’d gotten together. We’d prided ourselves on having put the village in an unassailable valley; sheer rock to our back and sides, and only one narrow pass that let into it. We couldn’t be starved or forced out from thirst; we had our own wells, and plenty of food stockpiled. Well, they had an answer to that. A handful of them killed the sentries, and poisoned the dogs that patrolled the heights, then rained fire arrows down on the village by night. We build with wood and thatch, mostly; the buildings went up like pitch torches. The rest waited outside the pass, and picked off those of us that got as far as the cleft. Have you ever seen rabbits running before a grass fire? That was us—and they were the hungry wolves waiting for dinner to leap into their jaws. Men I’ve known all my life I watched getting their legs shot out from underneath them. Children hardly old enough to be wearing knives, too—even graybeards and grannies. Anybody likely to be able to take up a weapon. They shot to cripple, not to kill; dead mouths can’t tell where they’ve hid their little treasures, y’see. A good half of those they shot may never walk right again. A good quarter bled to death where they lay. And a full quarter of the children burned to death in the houses they set fire to.”

A muted murmur of horror crept around the table; Lady Kester hid her own face in her hands.

A beam of late afternoon sunlight spotlighted the speaker as it poured in through the high windows. It touched him with a clear gold that made his eyes seem even more like burned-out pits in his face. “Your Heralds were not far; overnighting in a Waystation, I think. How they knew our plight, I’ll never know—must’ve been more of your magic, I guess. They came charging up on the backs of the raiders, two of ’em like a blessed army. Those white horses—the Companions—they were damn near an army by themselves. They broke up the ambush at the head of the pass, got them scattered off into the woods for a bit. Then the older one started getting us organized, got us clearing the snipers off the heights; the younger one took off into the burning buildings, hearing cries and looking for somebody to save, I guess. The older one didn’t even notice she was gone—until—”