Thirteen: The South in PerilHorns! Horns sounded in darkness. Like an injured beast in the night the horns blared with a long sad melancholy. The air was thick with fear and now the young High-Stone had arisen from restful sleep. Startled and nearly frightened to wake from his dreams the boy looked about his dwelling aimlessly in the darkness. In his frustration of near night-blindness he quickly gripped his staff and rubbed a rune carving before carefully reciting the word.
“Kenaz.” The boy whispered with a finger extended towards a half-worn candle. A wisp of gentle light appeared and floated toward the candle until the wick took to flame and its fire brought light to the room. Hakon listened quietly as the world around him became a flurry of activity. Doors slammed up and down the ston
