“Strange men have invaded the steppes,” explained Lylin. “Not as a great host. If that were the case, the Nuuri would have gone to war sooner. But the strangers come in widely scattered groups, some as large as a hundred or more, some smaller. And they do not seek conflict. Instead, they travel south, avoiding the Nuuri. Unwilling to risk their men, the Hearth-Keepers might have let the strangers pass.

“But the strangers are fools.” Again, the devotee sighed. “They kill zhecki whenever they want meat. That is an offense the Nuuri do not tolerate.”

With an effort, the Queen closed her mouth and concentrated. She knew too little about the Nuuri, but she had heard about them since childhood. She understood that their beasts were their lives. They protected the zhecki fiercely.

“As I say,” continued Lylin, “the strangers do not seek conflict. But they do not shrink from it. When they are attacked, they fight. They are unnaturally strong. And unnaturally hardy. Only mortal wounds hamper them. Other hurts they ignore. Their bodies are their weapons. They do not need more. They fight with their fists, Majesty. And their fangs. Those teeth rend flesh. They bite through bone.”

Gods! Estie flinched in shock. Men with fangs. Men like the ones who had killed Magister Facile and Father Knout.

Empty men ruled by the Great God.

“It is fortunate for the Nuuri,” continued Lylin, “that the strangers have not come in a great host. The losses of Nuuri men and zhecki would have been extreme. And it is fortunate also that the strangers have no interest in their attackers. They defend themselves savagely, but they do not pursue. When the Nuuri withdraw, the strangers resume their trek southward as if nothing has happened to trouble them.”

The devotee leaned closer to emphasize what she said. “Nevertheless, Majesty, the manner of the invasion has its own cunning. By coming in scattered groups, the strangers concealed the scale of their presence. As a result, the Nuuri were slow to recognize the truth. Each Hearth-Keeper believed that only her own herd was threatened.

“Now the Nuuri are united. They have sworn that no more strangers will be allowed to pass. That is alliance enough to content me.”

Queen Estie resisted an impulse to turn away. Instead, she held Lylin’s gaze. She could guess what the devotee would say next, and she did not want to hear it. She would have preferred to insist, No, do not tell me. Tell my husband.

He had prepared himself to fight in the west—and in the south if Set Ungabwey failed. He had done nothing to ready a defense against a force from the north.

But Lylin did not relent.

“Your tale, Majesty, proves that the strangers crossing the lands of the Nuuri serve the Great God, the power they name Rile. He rules them. I suspected it. Now I am certain.