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common stock. She’s cursed by the Gods, everyone says it.”
    The other men nodded and harrumphed judgementally, casting sour looks at Bryndine. It was blatant hypocrisy—Branwyn Errynson was no more lowborn than any of the villagers. Her daughter’s flaws were not a matter of blood. But I said nothing to contradict Logan.
    “She has sinned against the Mother,” Brother Randal asserted, while Ashton nodded stupidly at his side. “Women were made to nurture, not to slay; the Father made men for battle.”
    “You know what she wants, Scriber?” Logan asked.
    “I‘ve no idea, but she said she’d let us know shortly.” It seemed unwise to tell them too much; better to let the news come as a surprise and hope the shock made them pliable. “Look, here she comes.”
    Bryndine approached the villagers, and Sylla followed behind, her dark eyes daring anyone to speak out against her Captain. The rest of Bryndine’s company—those she had not sent out to guard the perimeter of the village—fell into formation behind her, though with only eight of them remaining, it was a less than impressive sight. It caught the people’s attention though, and the low murmur of conversation stopped abruptly as they waited to see what the Bloody Bride had to say.
    “I have grave news,” she began, and a worried murmur rippled through the crowd. “A rebel group known as the Burners is approaching Waymark as we speak. They will be here in no more than two hours.” She stood before the huge fireleaf in the village center, and as she spoke I saw a leaf fall from the branches above her and drift slowly to the ground. After the dream I had woken from earlier, it felt like a sign. I normally put no stock in such things, but my heart began to beat faster in my chest.
    More than a murmur answered Bryndine’s declaration. “ She’s lying! ” I heard someone shout, and “ Leave us alone! ” Those that didn’t react with anger chose scepticism; I recognized Carine Norgand’s voice, asking “What could they possibly want here?”
    Bryndine simply raised her voice, cutting through the commotion. “We are here to relocate the people of Waymark to Three Rivers, where you will all be under the King’s protection. King Syrid intends to see Erryn’s Promise upheld, and provide refuge for all of his people. Please, return to your homes, and gather what you can. We have a wagon for any items too heavy to carry, but space is limited; only bring what you need. And please, move quickly. We have little time to waste.”
    “We’ll do nothin’ of the kind, woman,” Logan Underbridge answered as he pushed his way to the front of the crowd. I could barely see him anymore from where I stood; only the top of his head was visible, a shiny bald patch surrounded in thinning orange hair. “I don’t see as how we ought to up and leave just because a woman in a soldier costume says so. Most like you just saw a shadow in the trees and got scared.”
    Ashton Norgand let out a donkey-like laugh, and many others followed his example. Sylla looked as though she might draw her sword at any moment, but Bryndine laid a hand on her arm, and she restrained herself.
    “You are a sinner in the eyes of the Mother,” Sister Joslyn declared, holding two fingers upright and slicing them horizontally through the air in the sign of the Divide. “If we go with you, her wrath will fall on us all!” There was much gasping at that, and many panicked hands sweeping through the air in an effort to ward of the evil of Bryndine’s presence.
    Things were getting out of hand, and there was little chance now of Bryndine getting the crowd back under control. Clearly the people of Waymark could not be counted on to do the wise thing without prompting. I breathed in deeply, preparing to do something I had fervently hoped I would not have to.
    “ Enough! ” I bellowed at the top of my lungs. In moments, all eyes in the crowd were focused on me. “Are you all fools?”
    “Now,