‘Tirilen,’ the man said urgently, ignoring the others. ‘Come quick, he’s bad again...’
Without speaking, but with a brief nod to Gulda, Tirilen walked straight towards the gaily painted entrance. The man turned aside and held it open for her as she passed through, then followed her. The flap, folded awkwardly, stood open for a moment until a light breeze touched it and it slowly dropped back to close out the damp coldness pervading the camp.
Gulda looked down at the ground and tapped her stick on it absently. There was a long uneasy silence.
‘Three dead?’ Loman said softly.
‘Soon, I fear,’ Gulda replied.
Barely had she spoken, than a loud cry of despair and anger reached them. Other cries formed around it. Gulda looked around the circle, her face pained. ‘I don’t know exactly what we’
