Overview

At eighteen I was taller than any man in the village and could

handle the tools of my trade with more ease than Glin's father. Watching

the milling village folk he tucked himself into my side and we waited.

Staying under the shadow of the eaves to hide my distinguishing hair was

like second nature as we waited.

It'd been a little over an hour since the whole village had heard

the approach of the wardens. First came the baying of their hounds echoing

through the valley, then the thunder of their steeds' hooves as they raced

up the Old Road. People lined the streets to watch them come, giving the

village the air of a festival-day.