[Dunwen]

Sam happened to be right next to the old dwarf and heard his mutterings about cowards and folk running away from danger. Clearly Kuric was referring to Eric. He was on the verge of giving the fellow a piece of his mind when the girl said that old Jak was just a story. He immediately turned his attention to her.

Self-consciously clearing his throat, he said hesitantly, “Begging your pardon, Miss Leanora, but Jak might not be just a gaffer’s tale. Once or twice a year when we were boys, Eric and I would slip off to the Chetwood for a couple of days. Most of the time we'd do our hunting and come back home. But there were a few times when we thought we heard somebody chanting-like, pretty far away. It always happened at night. We never could find out who it was. We did find Man tracks one time, and a fresh squirrel skin without any arrow mark, but that's all."

Nervously the young smith took a sip of own mug of brown ale, hoping to take some comfort in the slightly bitter liquid as it ran over his tongue and down his throat. He looked down at the scratched surface of the wooden table, expecting that the others found his words foolish. But he knew what he and his friend had seen and heard.