So Rondal inquired from his men the state of the manor’s defenses and their supply, although he knew the tallies well by now, and he took a report from the two riders who’d returned at dusk from their errand. The roads had been empty, they said, and the villages deserted, but their scavenging had brought in a few sacks of oats overlooked in a barn. Lady Arsella retreated to her room the moment dinner was over. The next morning the two refugees Tyndal had sent along arrived at the gates of Maramor. Rondal welcomed them cautiously, and after giving the men as much as they could eat he listened to their tale. They were from a village in the north that had been among the first to be raided. They escaped and had traveled from one hamlet to another, avoiding goblin patrols and slaver crews and hiding. They’d fought, they’d admitted, but they’d never had proper training. It wasn’t encouraged in Gilmora, where peasant rebellions were uncommon but typically bloody.
