'I do not know. What I do know is that they are coming. We must organize a withdrawal, head west for the Narian Forest. The raiders will be carrying their own supplies. They will not have the food to follow us far.'

Finnigal stared back at Three Streams. 'We have around sixty wagons. There is no way to transport all of the villagers and refugees. Narian is . . . what . . . twenty miles or so. The weather is breaking, but the land is still frozen. We couldn't make it in a day, which means a night out in the open. And when we get there what shelter would we have for the elderly and the very young? Gods, woman, many would die of the cold.'

'More will die if they stay here,' she said. 'We should head for Bane's farm. He has outbuildings and several barns, and within the forest there are sheltered clearings.'

'And outlaws,' said Finnigal. 'Murderous cut-throats who will prey on the weak.'

'That too,' she agreed.

Finnigal stood silently, and Vorna knew he was calculating the amount of time it would take a rider to reach Old Oaks, gather reinforcements and head back. More than a week. And only then if there were reinforcements to be had, considering that the king and his main force had left for Seven Willows, to confront Shard and his fifteen thousand Vars. Finnigal turned his gaze to the south. His father would be a hundred miles away by now, preparing to defend against the armies of Stone. Fear tightened his belly, and he licked his lips nervously.

'I do not like the choices,' he said, softly. 'To leave will mean deaths from the cold and the destruction of Three Streams. To stay will bring great slaughter to those I am pledged to protect.'

Vorna saw the torment in his eyes. 'I know this is hard for you, Finnigal. This is your first command, and it calls for great strength. You have that strength. I know this.'

He smiled at the compliment, but his face was pale and strained. 'Time, I think, to call the village elders together.'

Within the hour the thirty elected elders were seated in the great Roundhouse built by Braefar. They listened in stunned silence when Finnigal told them word had reached him of a Vars force to the east. But the silence ended when he suggested an evacuation. The first to voice a protest was Nanncumal the Smith. 'If they are sixty miles away, what makes you think they are coming here?' he asked.

Finnigal glanced to where Vorna was seated at the back. 'It is my belief, he said at last, 'that we are in great danger. I believe they plan to sack the settlement.'