10
Oxworth Pitt stood in the main hall in the village of Caris, north of Grimhold. The blue-eyed Trith had run off once he and Stavik were far enough away from the attack on the marketplace. He wanted nothing more than to rest his weary bones after an all-night trek into the mountains, but Stavik had insisted on gathering the villagers straight away. A hot meal and a good night’s rest were out of the question. The villagers had not been as receptive to a meeting as he’d hoped, but with some coaxing from Stavik, they reluctantly gathered to hear what the vendor had to say.
Oxworth shifted his weight from one foot to the other in an attempt to relieve a pulsing ache. He looked around the room at all the faces as Stavik told the tale of the winged beasts and fire magic. The men and women ap
