Hatred Flows SouthwardThe large gathering glade of the Kainu was full of people, for the second time that spring. At the center of the forest glade was the huge council stone, surrounded by white, old birches. The last time Aure had stepped on the stone, the birches had been bare. Now, they had conjured tiny leaf buds that framed the serious, hooded figure of the chieftain.
There were nearly a hundred listeners, the finest of all the tribes. Women and men, all wearing bows on their backs and knives on their belts. The southern Kainu were distinguishable by their clothing: in addition to skins, they had more wool and cloth, which they had made themselves or traded with Vikings and other southern people. The northernmost had painted their faces with blue patterns, in the old way of the Kain
