All the raiders’ eyes were fixed on the spectacle and I was gauging the distance between my broom and the closest thicket when I saw movement in the leaves owing nothing to breeze or passing bird. I glanced briefly at the game in the center of the clearing where the hero with the knife was still enjoying himself. His little display was far more about humiliation than lust thus far at least.

I saw a flash of golden hair and my spirits rose further. Skinny finished stripping the lass, mocking her among the ruins of her garments. He was just pointing at Yefri when fury like Poldrion’s own demons erupted all around the clearing. As the grin vanished from the skinny man’s face, Salkin launched himself upward, hands around that filthy throat in the next breath. Sitting astride his chest, Salkin was giving the bastard the beating he deserved as what looked like the entire rest of the settlement surged out of the bushes, spears, rough-hewn clubs and simple lengths of fallen timber in wrathful hands. Ravin’s hunters joined battle, weaponless or not, and the thieves found themselves between hammer and anvil.

Before I moved, ’Gren came charging out of the undergrowth opposite my hiding place, eyes bright with delight. He swept a spear around to cut a raider’s knees out from under him. Dropping the shaft, ’Gren caught the man by the collar as he fell, bringing a gloved fist in to smash stained teeth loose. The man’s boots scrabbled on the mossy turf as ’Gren shook him like a terrier with a rat. Twisting his tunic ever tighter around his neck, ’Gren soon had the man beaten limply unconscious and tossed him aside with a satisfied air.

Sorgrad was watching his brother’s back, long knives in both hands. The pair of them turned on a barrel-chested, bandy-legged robber with thick brown hair curling above a matted beard, bare arms furred like an animal. Sorgrad feinted to drive the man back, ’Gren blocked his escape and the pair of them drove him back, ever closer to my hiding place.

His stout boots made hamstringing Hairy problematic at best. Reversing my grip on the dagger, I picked my moment and stabbed him in the side of the foot. Rolling out and sideways, I was up before Hairy’s howl was cut short by Sorgrad’s club knocking the senses out of him.

“How did you know we were in trouble?” I smiled with relief. “What’s-her-name must have got home quicker than a scandalous rumor!”

I saw Sorgrad shake his head out of the corner of my eye as we stood ready for trouble. “I’m not sure what raised the alarm. I was chatting to Sandy and all of a sudden the place was like a kicked anthill. Me and ’Gren came along to see the fun.”

“What there is of it,” ’Gren said glumly, seeing the last of the thieves disappearing into the sheltering embrace of the wildwood.

“What about Usara?” I looked around apprehensively.

“He should be somewhere about,” Sorgrad said vaguely.

I saw a stand of tall trees suddenly crowned with fire. This conflagration was heading our way but was leaving the leaves behind it untouched. A scarlet lattice of burning red light doubled and redoubled its length inside a heartbeat, an aberrant red rather than the orange and yellow of natural wildfire.

As the flames ran around to join hands and encircle the glade, Skinny and his dirty gang soon came scrambling out of the bushes. One of the raiders stood his ground, jaw set as the crimson flames edged nearer and nearer. He stuck out a defiant, trembling hand and howled as the flesh was seared red and blistered, stumbling backward to join his friends.

“I hope Usara doesn’t set the whole wood alight,” I murmured to Sorgrad.

“You’re a harsh, untrusting woman,” he mocked me. “Look.”

Through gaps in the flames I could see mist rising in defiance of the hot sun now bright above. The vapor was shot through with faint jade luster and moved without aid of any breeze to cling to the trees and bushes, coating grass and flowers, coalescing in any hollow or dip before flowing on.

“Very pretty,” ’Gren said with approval as Usara stepped through the ring of magic, gathering the flames in his upturned hands. His eyes were tired but he looked extremely pleased with himself.

“That man never had much chance to show off as a child, did he?” Sorgrad commented with amusement.

“What happens next?” I wondered, looking at the thieves, now cowering in a ragged circle.

“Taking some recompense,” answered Sorgrad, his tone thoughtful.

The runes were most definitely reversed now. Skinny was dragged roughly to his feet by Salkin, whose bloodied knuckles must have been aching fiercely. The thief was bleeding slowly from several gashes and a nasty cut below one ear. Ravin beckoned forward the girl who’d been subject to Skinny’s little game. After a brief consultation, she stepped forward, her pretty face set hard for vengeance. A full-blooded kick in the stones certainly got a reaction from Skinny, however dazed he was. He doubled up so fast he left a handful of hair in Salkin’s fingers.

Several of Ravin’s people cheered and clapped, but were waved to silence. The drive of blood lust that might have left all the raiders dead on the ground had passed. Ravin took charge with a few curt orders and his folk dispersed to reclaim the spoils of their hunt, Salkin and a couple of others set about stripping the robbers, roughly handling the unconscious and beating any remaining defiance out of the rest. We were soon ready to depart, leaving the would-be thieves cowering in nakedness and humiliation. Rusia and the other women were bundling up the looted clothing though I wondered what possible use they could make of it, even if the knives and spears were worth having.

“Perhaps those fools will think twice about listening to that one’s suggestions,” said Ravin to Usara, shoving the still uncaring Skinny with a contemptuous boot.

As we moved off, I glanced back to see a few slowly getting to their feet, some attempting to shoulder the unconscious, no easy task without belt or breeches to get a grip on. I kept an ear cocked for any hint of pursuit but heard none.

“Life in the greenwood’s not all nuts and niceness then,” said Sorgrad as we walked.

“No,” I agreed, thinking with some regret of the songs my father taught me. I abandoned that childishness when the settlement came into view. Orial and the other women were busy dismantling the roundhouses, packing frames, matting and everything else on the small donkeys brought in from their foraging in the woods by the lads who cared for them. “What’s happening?”

Orial looked up from securing a roll of leather with a thong. “We’re moving on.”

“They’ll come back, tomorrow or the next day.” Yefri came to fill in the hearth pit with stones from the edge of the sura circle.

“You’re not going to stand and fight?” I put a hand on the closest donkey’s harness to stop it fretting.

Orial stacked a nest of iron pots. “Why? There’s plenty of forest to be had with no vexation.”

“But then they’ve won,” I objected.

She regarded me with perplexity. “That ratshit gang? We could stripe their hides for them if we wanted, but why bother? Some of ours will only get hurt.”

“If we move on, they’ll find nothing and he’ll look even more stupid than he did with the breeze fingering his spotty arse,” grinned Yefri, lashing a bundle to the donkey, soothing its furry brown ears.

“Won’t they just track you and hit the next camp you make?” This might not be cowardice but it certainly sounded like foolishness to me.

“Not with Ravin covering our trail,” Rusia came to help her sister. “No one’s better at him than hiding a path, not since Seris himself.”

“Scavengers won’t follow a loser,” Orial folded a stack of blankets into an oiled skin. “That one will be foraging on his own, well this side of Solstice.”

Zenela walked up with her hands full of freshly washed crocks, wearing a Forest tunic over a divided skirt. She looked pale and drawn, eyes a little fever-bright, but I still wouldn’t have expected to see her up and about before the next moon turned dark. I turned to Orial but her eyes were on Usara as he talked with Ravin. I saw the diamond-link necklace shining in the throat of the herb woman’s tunic.