day it was, what the glen was like into which the Druid came
with Brin Ohmsford and Rone Leah, how everything suddenly
grew hushed. Par created the images in the minds of his listen-
ers, instilling in them a sense of anxiety and expectation, trying
unsuccessfully not to experience the same feelings himself.
At the rear of the room, men were moving to block the doors
and windows, men suddenly shed of cloaks and dressed all in
black. Weapons glittered. There were patches of white on sleeves
and breasts, insignia of some sort. Par squinted, Elven vision
sharp.
A wolf’s head.
The men in black were Seekers.
Par’s voice faltered and the images shimmered and lost their
hold. Men began to grumble and look about. Coil stopped his
narration. There was movement everywhere. There was some-
one in the darkness behind them. There was someone all about.
Coil edged closer protectively.
Then the lights rose again, and a wedge of the black-garbed
Seekers pushed forward from the front door. There were shouts
and groans of protest, but the men making them were quick to
move out of the way. The owner of the Blue Whisker tried to
intervene, but was shoved aside.
The wedge of men came to a stop directly in front of the
platform. Another group blocked the exits. They wore black
from head to toe, their faces covered above their mouths, their
wolf-head insignia gleaming. They were armed with short
swords, daggers, and truncheons, and their weapons were held
ready. They were a mixed bunch, big and small, stiff and bent,
but there was a feral look to all of them, as much in the way
they held themselves as in their eyes.
Their leader was a huge, rangy man with tremendously long
arms and a powerful frame. There was a craggy cast to his face
where the mask ended, and a half-beard of coarse reddish hair
covered his chin. His left arm was gloved to the elbow.
“Your names?” he asked. His voice was soft, almost a whis-
per.
Par hesitated. “What is it that we have done?”
“Is your name Ohmsford?” The speaker was studying him
intently.
Par nodded. “Yes. But we haven’t…”
“You are under arrest for violating Federation Supreme
Law,” the soft voice announced. There was a grumbling
sound from the patrons. “You have used magic in defiance
of. . .”
“They was just telling stories!” a man called out from a few
feet away.. One of the Seekers lashed out swiftly with his trun-
cheon and the man collapsed in a heap.
“You have used magic in defiance of Federation dictates and
thereby endangered the public.” The speaker did not even bother
to glance at the fallen man. “You will be taken …”
He never finished. An oil lamp dropped suddenly from the
center of the ceiling to the crowded ale house floor and exploded
in a shower of flames. Men sprang to their feet, howling. The
speaker and his companions turned in surprise. At the same
moment the tall, bearded man who had taken a seat on the
platform’s edge earlier came to his feet with a lunge, vaulted
several other astonished patrons, and slammed into the knot of
Seekers, spilling them to the floor. The tall man leaped onto the
stage in front of Par and Coil and threw off his shabby cloak to
reveal a fully armed hunter dressed in forest green. One arm
lifted, the hand clenched in a fist.
“Free-born!” he shouted into the confusion.
It seemed that everything happened at once after that. The
decorative netting, somehow loosened, followed the oil lamp
to the floor, and practically everyone gathered at the Blue
Whisker was suddenly entangled. Yells and curses rose from
those trapped. At the doors, green-clad men pounced on the
bewildered Seekers and hammered them to the floor. Oil
lamps were smashed, and the room was plunged into dark-
ness.
The tall man moved past Par and Coil with a quickness they
would not have believed possible. He caught the first of the
Seekers blocking the back entrance with a sweep of one boot,
snapping the man’s head back. A short sword and dagger ap-
peared, and the remaining two went down as well.