Ella nodded to Calen. “I’m happy you didn’t die,” she said, her tone flat. Calen couldn’t help but cough out a short laugh. Ella gave him a quick hug. “I’m glad you are back.”
“Me too. I didn’t know you cared.”
Ella gave Calen a sly wink before joining Freis in her inspection of Rist’s wound.
Not long passed before Tharn and Lasch returned, with the rest of their families in tow. Elia and Ylinda directed glancing smiles at Calen as they rushed to fuss over their own children. Ferrin was the last to enter the tent, and with him came Iwan Swett, Tarren Netley, and Jon Hildom. Anger burned in Calen when Fritz, Kurtis, and Dennet crept in after them.
Calen didn’t see Dann stand up. “You have some nerve coming in here after what you did. I’ll put you down where you stand if you take one step further. I—”
Erdhardt raised his hand in the air. Even Dann knew that meant for him to shut up. “I will have none of that, young Master Pimm. They have been brought here in the interest of fairness. We cannot simply take your word on what has happened.”
Dann’s face was incredulous. “Our word? Rist has an arrow wound in his leg. Do you think he shot him—”
Erdhardt glared at Dann. “Sit down. Now.”
Dann did as he was told. Erdhardt was a fair man with a warm heart, but even Dann’s stray tongue knew its limits.
Erdhardt turned, opening his arms to the group. “Now, if you will all join me, there is a matter that we must discuss. I have asked the councils of all seven villages to hear this matter. I trust there is no disagreement with this?”
“Aye, I should think not,” came a low but clear response from Tharn Pimm. Mumbles of agreement followed. A few muffled grumbles came from Iwan Swett, but he did not argue. Taking one last sweep across the group with his eyes, Erdhardt nodded and gestured for everyone to follow him. He made his way to the long table at the end of the tent.
The chattering from the village council members died away gradually as the group approached, turning to silence as soon as they noticed Calen, Dann, and Rist. The silence remained as Erdhardt and Jorvill made their way around the table and took their seats next to Verna Gritten. Calen couldn’t help but think of how alike she and Anya looked. Were it not for the slight evidence of time’s touch at the corner of her eyes and mouth, and the odd streak of grey in her hair, they could have been sisters.
As seemed to always be the way, it was Erdhardt who spoke first. “Now that we are all gathered here, Calen, can you please tell aloud what you told us earlier, when we found you at the forest’s edge?”
It took Calen a few seconds to realise that he was expected to speak next. He was suddenly aware that every set of eyes around the table were now fixed keenly on him. He cleared his throat and took a step forward. Well, here goes nothing.
Once more, Calen recited the story of their time in Ölm Forest. Concern and anger flickered across people’s faces. Kurtis and Dennet looked at their feet the whole time, not daring to raise their eyes. Calen thought he saw a grin on Fritz’s face, but it was hard to tell from the corner of his eye.
A few unintelligible murmurs passed between some of the council members, which Calen tried to ignore. Anger was replaced by shock at the mention of the Uraks. Even the council members who had shown little interest until that point now sat to attention with perked ears. He once again left out how the larger Urak died, crediting its kill to Dann’s arrow, to which Dann raised an amused eyebrow. Calen was short of breath when he finished. Relief flowed through him as he spoke the last words. Almost as if he were no longer there, the group broke out in a commotion, none of it aimed at Calen.
“Uraks, this close to the villages?”
“That can’t be. We would have heard something by now,” said a rat-faced man from Talin.
“One of the other groups would have seen them. This is ridiculous—”
“There will be order!” Erdhardt’s voice filled the empty tent as he slammed his hand down on the wooden table. The squabbling council members were quick to quiet their tongues. He continued, “There are two things we must establish here. The first is the truth of the altercation between these two groups of young men. The second is to decide what our course of action is regarding this Urak sighting.”
A thin man with greyish-white hair was the first to speak. Judging by his clothes, he was from the village of Pirn. The thick brown and cream cloth from which his shirt and trousers were cut was common there. “How, may I ask, are we even to be sure as to the truth of this sighting? It could simply be children making up stories. There hasn’t been an Urak sighting in these parts for over two years.”
Dann scowled. “Children?”
Erdhardt glared at Dann. His eyes were like steel. Dann turned his face to the floor like a chastised dog. Erdhardt pushed his chair back, got to his feet, and lifted his other hand in the air. In it was Dann’s drawstring bag, stained dark with dried blood. He turned the bag upside-down and dumped its contents onto the table, then sat, arms folded.
The group erupted in a frenzy of shouts and roars, mixed with yelps of shock as the Urak’s head rolled along the table. It came to a stop in front of Kara Thain, the village elder from
