Silent Hall by NS Dolkart Page A

princeling got away with some half the king’s hearthmen, and they been waging war ever since. They’ve got no chance against Atuna, of course, it being a walled city and all, and them being only thirty strong or so, but so long as the Atunaeans don’t send out an army to find ’em, they keep riding round and making trouble.”
    Phaedra had found a stool next to Garan’s, and she now sat with her knees by her chin, her hands clasped around her ankles. “And these people have been here?” she asked.
    â€œWell, the princeling was only fifteen at the time, but he’s a reglar old bandit now, some forty years on. They come here ’bout a year ago, took our money and ate our lambs and said they’d be back next year. The young ones say we oughta leave and take up with that wizard fellow, but we older folks don’t like the thought of saying goodbye to our village.”
    Phaedra was not sure she had heard her right. “Did you say a wizard?”
    â€œYou heard me right. Psander, he calls himself, come here some two or three months ago, said he was settling in the area and wanted to offer us permanent shelter in his fortress. Said we could live in his walls and feed our livestock on the plains, and all he wanted was to share our food and maybe get some help ’round the house now and then.”
    The old woman looked at her sharply, noting her excitement. “Oh sure, the others love that idea when there’s Gallant Ones about, but it sounds far too good to be true to us as has brains.”
    Phaedra did her best to look as though she agreed. She didn’t mean to be rude, but an actual wizard! Living nearby! It was fair to worry about moving to live with him permanently, but for the curious traveler, it was almost too good to be true. Wizards were supposed to have knowledge and power beyond the realms of men – they were also supposed to be secretive and aloof. Here was one who actually invited visitors!
    â€œI’m sure you’re right,” Phaedra said soothingly. “I’ve heard that wizards are dangerous. But can you afford to feed the Gallant Ones next time they come?”
    Garan shook her head. “We’re lucky it’s been a good year; no one starved this time. If they’d stayed longer…”
    â€œIf this Psander is offering protection –”
    â€œI didn’t say I liked going hungry, but won’t no good come of trusting a wizard.”
    When Phaedra told the others about her conversation with Garan, Criton became just as excited as she was. Narky did not. “Wizards are supposed to be evil.”
    â€œYou’re just basing that on stories,” Phaedra said. “Doesn’t finding out the truth interest you at all?”
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œIf all the townspeople leave,” Hunter pointed out, “we won’t be able to stay here anyway. Did she say when they were planning to make up their minds?”
    â€œThey’re deciding what to do tomorrow. Hopefully they’ll go, and we’ll be able to tag along with them.”
    The islanders were not invited to the next day’s town meeting, but the final decision was hardly kept a secret: the younger townsfolk had won the day. The next few days were spent packing up everything but the houses themselves, preparing for the journey. Narky put up some resistance, but after his experience in the woods, he was too afraid of being left alone. Phaedra told him that they were all going, and that was that.
    Nobody knew exactly where Psander’s fortress was, but it was supposed to be somewhere upon the plain, and the wizard had apparently told the townspeople that those who sought him in peace could not fail to find it. At last they set off, driving animals in front of them and lugging their pots and pans, pushing barrows and pulling little children along beside them. Laden as they were, they had barely gone ten miles before the sun