[Child of the 7th Age]

Up ahead, a considerable crowd had gathered for the hunt. Men and women dressed in elaborate finery were mounted on steeds who frothed at the mouth, both they and their riders clearly impatient for the chase to start. Villagers in simpler garments wandered along the edge of the glade, while excited children darted in and out shouting out their glee at having a day free from chores or study. The steady yip of the dogs punctuated the general din as the animals paced the grove with their noises to the ground, their tails resolutely wagging.

Yet in one instant all that had faded from Khandr's mind. The hubub and bright colors receded as the meaning of the man's dark words sank in. "Who are you?" he snapped. "What do you know of such things? What reason do you have to accuse the Ulfings of treachery?"

The Borrim lord was of two minds. He had long suspected that Uldor and his crew were up to no good. Why else would he instruct his own men to spy on their hosts? Yet he was not one to trust in strangers, and he had never seen this man before. Khandr's voice dropped to a husky whisper as he stared fixedly at the messenger. "As to my fate..... Since when can any man or elf say that someone's time has come? None can do that, except perhaps the great ones from far over the sea. And I do not think you appear to be in their employ! So who has sent you here with these grim words? Whose bidding do you do?" He stood stock still, demanding an answer.