In his farmhouse, glancing furtively out his window, Dusin wonders if Melone is well. It has been hours since she left, leading Taggart's friends Kane and Khom-Bei towards the Bitterroot Creek. She's a sensible girl, her father's daughter, and although he keeps a calm exterior for his wife's sake, he wonders now if he did the right thing, sending her to guide those two. Especially with these uninvited guests on hand.
In his very home are the officers of the cavalry troop, six Vorghol, lean and hungry predators. Their hundred Reith troops quarter outside in his barn, tucked away against the night's chill, along with their horses.
Kurgar, the Vorghol cavalry Captain snaps, "Dusin, we paid for ten hogs…but if you've slaughtered them, I'll beat you bloody. We'll slaughter them ourselves, right boys?" There is general mirth at this, as their Captain takes personal pride in spilling blood, even that of animals, and he has been promising his Reith soldiers pork since they were sent west. He will dismember the hogs with his own hands and pass the spoils to the men.
There is no knock at the door, and no sound that anyone approaches. There is simply a cold breeze, the door swings open as if on its own accord, and two cloaked and hooded figures appear there, silent as the grave. The six Vorghol jump to their feet. Who could sneak up on them?
One figure is smaller than Dusin, a shriveled, gray-skinned figure, Tobon-sized, and once a Tobon long ago. His face shrunken, the nose long and ratlike, the eyes yellowed. An Inghol. One of the rare Tobon who was Turned and lives on as undead. Dusin recognizes the Inghol from his long-ago days in Idris. Master Niko. He delights in torture.
The other figure is tall, slender, her face ageless, Turned in the bloom of her youth, her skin pale, clad in black…there is no mistaking her for anything less than a Vorghol Matriarch. By her aura, perhaps one of the Powers of the land. What Powers look down on this night?
"Slaughter…" chirps the Inghol. This may be a mocking jest, an echo of Kurgan's words, but the Inghol's gaunt face does not give away his intent.
Dusin goes to one knee and averts his eyes. Who would notice a Tobon farmer? They are as common as dirt.
Kurgar, cruel and merry a moment before, swallows at the sight of these two, intimidated. He rises and bows respectfully, clearly outclassed. The other Vorghol show deference to their pack superiors.
"Captain," the Matriarch purrs. "I am send on an errand from the King. Your men are seconded to me, at once. I need swift riders."
Kurgar gapes, baring his fangs. He is not sure who this Matriarch is, but he cannot do less than obey her. Still, he stammers, "My lady? We ride west, on the orders of Baron Khilur. My troops to help quell the mutiny of the Northerlings. Others will soon follow and swell the army's ranks."
The Inghol hisses, "New orders, hm? New orders…Lady Yvene's orders now…" He bends to the hearth, sniffing with his rat-like nose. Then he sniffs at Dusin's sleeve. "They were here, my lady."
The Hunters' presence would be foolish to deny, with Niko's senses. "Two men were here," Dusin explains. "Begged for food. But they saw the riders coming and left. Didn't know they were outlaws."
Kurgar is shocked, but hides it well. Lady Yvene? The King's own wizard here?
The slender, young-seeming Matriarch folds her arms and speaks softly, her voice like a sharp blade wrapped in soft velvet, hiding the steel within. "Captain. You surely must recognize who I am. Your cooperation would be appreciated. A pair of outlaws now flee to the west, in the company of other outlaws. They are fugitives from the crown, you see…and bear a mighty bounty on their heads. Which you, of course, would stand to collect."
Kurgar looks towards his officers. They had hoped for some sport with the Tobon and his family before drinking them dry. But this is Lady Yvene, of the Black Chamber, and at the mention of the royal reward, he bows. "Of course. Of course, at once, my lady Yvene." The Vorghol riders offer respectful bows.
Yvene's dark gaze sweeps the room. The fire seems to dim slightly. Dusin looks
away, trying not to tremble. Melone, girl, what have I gotten you into? Warrior,
I pray, watch over her. The royal wizard smirks seems to notice Dusin for
the first time, and stares long and hard at him, like she would an insect, and
then dismisses him as beneath her notice. She turns to the other Vorghol and
licks her lips. "And you will get your slaughter, Captain. This I promise."