[Arvedui III]

It seemed that with the coming of the southmen, everything had turned against Fletch, including his long ally the weather. Shrill wind and hammering rain flayed mercilessly at everything in the slopelands, where Rook's tribe abode. Fletch did not much care for the giant's land with its storms and surges, humbling once mighty trees and betraying faithful passes between the rocks; But Wolf wanted allies, so allies he would have. Still, Fletch concluded that his dry attitude towards his role in fighting the southmen didn't count for much as a torrent of water broke through the rocks to his left, and the water level came up to his shines. The most painful part of the experience, however, was the fact that had he stayed in the black uplands until the old moon died or remained in the village, he would be warm and dry. How, as Fletch squatted under a jagged overhang, he just liked to think those words, as if he could absorb them into himself and make them real.But, wishing and thinking, no one would know better than Fletch, made nothing real. So, despondently he sighed and trudged out into the rain again, setting his slight shoulders for the lashings to come.

Fletch had not been struggling for ten minutes when a huge, blurred figure appeared over the rocks. The figure dipped out of view again, and Fletch dogged him closely, but not without an undignified scramble out of the water and onto Rook's ledge. The village on top of it was lain out in much the same way Wolf's was; However Rook and his family had no home of their own, but dwelt with whichever tribesman they chose for the night or for even as long as a moon, praying upon their people for hospitality in exchange for the protection they gave. It was an old custom that had died near the lake ages ago, and Fletch found it an infuriatingly difficult one when he was trying to deliver a message. The blurred figure had by now ducked into a hut and Fletch groaned when it reemerged with six others behind it. Rook never traveled without at least four other men to back him, a lesson his father learned the hard way.

Supposing he was a familiar enough sight, Fletch waited with already ebbing patience as the greatest of the figures took one look at him, snorted, and beckoned him inside the nearest hut, after evicting what looked like woman and two children out of it. Blinking against the warmth and the light, Fletch sat and stared at the towering man surrounded by bodyguards that would put even Bear's brawn to shame.

"So your return, little worm." Rook said, as he always did when Fletch happened around. "Surely you are early? Or has that tiny head of yours at last impaired your sense of seasons? It is raining!" The five others lounging about him laughed at this, Rook grinned at his own cleverness, and it took all of Fletch's willpower to not gorge all of them full of the darts he made so well. But Wolf's words and the picture of the southmen's camp came to his mind, and Fletch stayed his hands and smiled.

"Nay, Rook, I know it rains. I bear a message from Wolf, who abides by the Clearlake now, and I would have you hear it."

At this Rook frowned. "Remember, little Fletch, it is what I would have that matters here. And, it is unlike you to bear anything for anyone, including Wolf, who was always, I think, too soft with you and your queer wanderings. Does his fire burn well?"

"For now. But it flickers." And Fletch told Rook and his guards of the southmen, of their filthy ways, of how they planned to stay, of the rangers protecting them, of Wolf's situation and plea for help. Rook seemed to take all the information in stride, nodding occasionally with a indiscernible expression on his face.

"The rangers have not plagued us since we came here." Rook said after a moment's thought. "But southmen spread, so the rumors say. And the more southmen, the less Rooksmen return from driving them off. If we came, what would Wolf, who if you speak true has little, do for us in return? Do you know that, tiny worm?"

Fletch narrowed his eyes, trying hard to conceal his anger at Rook for his slights against both Wolf and himself. "I do not" He said through gritted teeth. Rook smiled then, beaming with his eyes for the first time in Fletch's presence. "Good." He said and rose. "Then since you are getting so good at bearing words, little Fletch, bear some for me. Tell Wolf that Rook and his finest warriors will come, but I want a wearguild for our trouble, and a mighty one at that. In fact," Rook continued thoughtfully, "A few females wouldn't be missed among Wolf's folk either, I'm sure." And with a devilish smile, Rook nodded to his thugish fellows, who promptly threw Fletch out of the hut, and back into the cold, unmerciful rain.