Chapter Seven
Hugh watched from the forest edge as four riders approached Widow Miller’s cottage. He let his gaze rest on each rider. His brother, Tam. Hazel Miller. Cadoc Ironfist. And Aleyn Fairborn.
His father hadn’t come, but Tam and Cadoc had, and they were every bit as competent as the Lord Warder. They’ll save me, if anyone can. He found it suddenly much easier to breathe, as if his lungs and ribcage had expanded.
Tam swung down from his horse and turned to help Hazel dismount. Hugh saw Ivy limp from the cottage, saw the people and horses mill. To his deer’s eyes the late afternoon sky was an odd shade of blue and the meadow a dull green, blotched with gray and white flowers. The horses, the riders, and the clothes the riders wore were varying shades of gray, from off-white to al
