That same night, Oron in Bakyon sat in a troubled mood. His warriors and retainers knew it. His servant girls knew it, for their pettings and pulings, their kisses and caresses could not arouse the lover in him. And Tion knew it.
Outside the palace, snowflakes fell softly through the gray silent night. Snow drifted through the streets; and beyond the city walls, all was a cold nighted slumber, blanketed and laden with the frozen white, bleak stretches burnished silver from the glow of the great moon.
And the Wolf’s heart beat cold and empty in his breast. Before him in the throne hall danced lithe young women, and his warriors fought mock duels. Trays of hot steaming meats were laid out for everyone. Wine was spilled, and soldiers laughed as they pulled close their paramours for the nigh
