We’ve the Nega dwarves to hunt down—”

“But the Bnen attacked your villages,” Dain said in protest.

Around him, a babble of consternation and anger broke out.

“What knows he of the raid?”

“Part of it, most like.”

“A spy, he is!”

“Let’s carve his bones for the trouble he’s caused.”

A shout rose up, and Dain’s knees locked in fear. He held his ground, however, knowing they wouldn’t attack him until Lord Odfrey gave them leave. His life hung on the whim of this stern man towering above him on horseback. Dain never let his gaze waver from Lord Odfrey’s dark eyes.

“Your wits are addled,” the chevard said. “My huntsman is safe behind in Thirst Hold—” “Nay, he lies bleeding in the forest,” Dain interrupted. “And with him are two men, stalwart and tall. One has hair like wheat. The top of his left ear was cut off probably a long time ago. The other has a nose hooked and broken, with no front teeth. Are they not your men? Who else would they be? I saw your huntsman yesterday. I know his face well.”