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how unlikely his hopes were.
    He said, “What do you think will happen to the captives they
took? Why did they carry them away in the first place? The attack made no
sense. It was as if their only aim was to destroy us and steal a handful of our
people.”
    “I’m afraid I have no answers,” I said. “I’ve never heard
the like.”
    It had been talked of all day. Everyone wondered what manner
of people our strange attackers had been and from where they had come. But the
question that was uppermost in every mind was that of why the strangers had targeted
Hammond’s Bend. What was their goal?
    Dunnel interrupted my thoughts. “I have sent a party to
Selbius to bring a report of the attack before the Praetor. Doubtless within a
few days, the village will be swarming with Fists. Again.”
    I was pretty certain how he felt about that. The grim
specter of the hanging tree still loomed over the meeting hall, but I imagined
the villagers would welcome the Praetor’s men with more joy than they would a
return of the invaders. The reach of the Praetor’s arm suddenly represented
security in this isolated place.
    Dunnel cleared his throat, and I sensed he was searching for
a lighter topic. We had dwelt enough on destruction for one day.
    “A remarkable bow you have there,” he said and nodded toward
the weapon propped against my knee. “I’ve never seen anything of such size and
detailed workmanship. You didn’t make it yourself?”
    I said vaguely, “I found it someplace a long time ago.”
    “I wouldn’t mind stumbling over such a find,” he said. “You
know, I don’t think I saw you miss a shot last night, and I’m not the only one
to remark on it. Who taught you to shoot like that?”
    I said, “It’s less me and more the bow that directs the
shot. Sometimes I feel like all I do is stand there and nock arrows.”
    From the expression on his face, I realized I had probably
said too much. I scrubbed a weary hand across my face. I hadn’t had a full
night’s sleep in what seemed an age, and my mind was sluggish.
    He caught the gesture and said, “Forgive me. I shouldn’t
batter you with small talk. You’re at the end of your strength, as are most of
us. You’ll want to find a bit of rest. I promise you no one will refuse you a
bed this day.”
    I choked back a yawn even as he spoke. “A few hours of sleep
wouldn’t go amiss,” I admitted. “But there is still work to be done…”
    I looked out over the chaos revealed by the pale morning sun
and suddenly felt as though I had great weights pressing down on me.
    “Everything of urgency is done,” he told me. “We will rest
and tend to our wounded today.”
    I disagreed. Back in the old days, Rideon never would have
let us sit back and rest after a raid from the Fists.
    “You’ll want to post a watch about a mile out from the
village perimeter to give warning should another attack come,” I said. “It
doesn’t seem likely, but you and the other village heads should lay a plan of
defense in case the worst should happen. Start rooting around old attics and
barns to see what else you can dig up that’ll pass for weaponry, and I’d
suggest fortifying the meeting hall as best you can and making it your fallback
position for a last stand. It’s the most defensible building, and the only one
large enough to hold all the old folk and little ones. Once you’ve done that—”
    Seeing the look on his face, I cut off abruptly.
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “This is your village, and you’re the
head. I’m just a stranger passing through.”
    “No, don’t be sorry,” he said. “What you advise makes sense,
and I’ll see that it’s done.”
    I wasn’t accustomed to being deferred to, but if he wanted
my opinions, I wouldn’t hold back. We continued laying plans for the days to
follow until we were interrupted by one of the villagers with a question about
the weapons we had appropriated from enemy corpses. I was surprised he wanted
to talk with me