“Not today.”

Talen bowed in gratitude. “Zu, you are clear-sighted and wise.”

“Then prove me right. Packs of bounty hunters will begin to stalk these woods. But if a Koramite were to bring the hatchlings in, that would say something, wouldn’t it.”

“Yes,” said the Fir-Noy. “It will say that Koramites, like crows, feed on the carrion of their own kind. It proves nothing.”

Anger flashed up in Talen. Fir-Noy did nothing but pick and feed on the work of others. He knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t help himself. The words were leaping out before he knew what he was saying.

“Well, Zu,” said Talen, “at least we’re willing to make something useful of our carrion; it appears the Fir-Noy simply let theirs parade about full of maggots and stink.”

Anger flushed the Fir-Noy’s face, and he kicked his horse forward to get at Talen.

Talen cringed, but the bailiff grabbed the Fir-Noy’s reins and pulled the horse up short.

“He’ll take that back!” said the Fir-Noy. “I won’t stand for this, Shoka land or no.”

The bailiff turned to Talen. “This is the last time you can expect protection from your own stupidity. Apologize!”

“Yes,” said Talen. “Of course.” He faced the Fir-Noy and stood as tall as he could muster. “Zu, I’ve been knocked half out of my mind. I apologize. Such untruths are only given voice by fools.”

“Rot,” said the Fir-Noy. Then he wrenched the reins away from the bailiff. “Your territory lord will hear about this.”

“I have no doubt,” said the bailiff.

The bailiff turned to Talen, his pale eyes sending a trembling up Talen’s back. “There’s going to come a time, Talen, when there will be no one to hold such men back. And the Koramites will be purged. It might be already too late. Now, you tell your da I expect him to order the Koramites in my district. I expect assurances. And know this: we’ll be picking over every rock and stone. And by the Goat King’s hairy arse, we’ll make no distinction between those who harbor hatchlings and those who practice the abominable arts. Now go.”

Talen nodded. “Thank you, Zu.” He began to walk back down the slope. “Excuse me,” he said, trying to get past two of the men to go back to the bridge to fetch his cart.

“Where are you going?” the bailiff demanded.

“Zu?” asked Talen.

“I just gave you an order.”

Talen paused. He could see no sympathy on the faces of the men. He wasn’t stupid, but at the moment he felt very much like a dunce.