Even though her heart was racing, Nene kept running at full speed. She cursed the Emissary for choosing to live in a place so isolated and far from Kumhar, yet she kept running. Nila had tried to hold her back in every way. She looked behind her, fearing to see her chasing after her, but fortunately, that wasn’t the case. Knowing she was safe in town was a big relief. However, Nene was still in danger, and so was Oto. Surely the Emissary and Kora, who had been Jiriel's guest for the last few days, knew how to take care of themselves, but Oto... He had for sure gone out that morning, as usual. They had to look for him, quickly.

  The day had started in the worst way possible. A guard from Kumhar had almost broken down the door at Nila's farm. His terrified look had communicated the gravity of the situation more than his words. According to the man's rambling explanations, a hunting party had encountered a horde of nomads from the east. It was said that they were warmongers and ruthless and were often forced to lead their herds to new pastures, even at the cost of conquering new lands by force. They were also known to plunder settlements along their path and were the subject of other horrific rumours even in the Principality, where they had only rarely been seen at the borders, guarded by the Knights of the Church and the Prince’s soldiers.

  The mayor had declared a state of emergency. All the citizens of Kumhar were taking refuge within the city defences, those capable of fighting were arming themselves. Peasants, artisans, anyone who was not an elder, child or infirm were being called to defend their city.

  Nene kept running, her thoughts split in two: Nila on one side, Oto on the other. She had no choice but to trust that Nila was not alone, and to hope that she and her sister would not act recklessly. Oto, on the other hand, was a completely different matter: if he was out there somewhere as she feared, he was in immediate danger.

  She strode up the hill. The sheath of her sword, hastily gathered and tied to her belt, hindered her movements. The spring air lashed her face, the flowering meadows would have been a joy to behold in a different scenario. Jiriel's house stood right at the top of the hill. She was close enough to distinguish its features, but there was no one around it, which made her even more nervous. Was she late?

  She ran faster, and faster, slipping on the damp morning grass, falling to all fours, getting up and running again. She was barely breathing, gulping air from her mouth. Her throat was parched so much so it was painful. When she finally reached the top, she had no more breath to spare. A few metres separated her from her destination. She arrived in front of the Emissary's door drenched in sweat. She rested a hand on the wall, then knocked.

  There was no response. Overwhelmed by emotions, thinking it was not the time to worry about decorum, she pulled the door with all her might, but the latch prevented her from opening it.

  ?Hey!?, Jiriel thundered from inside. ?Can’t you wait a moment?! What's the hurry?!?

  ?My Lady, it's me! Nene!?, she shouted.

  ?I know it's you. Don't break down my door!?

  The angel unlocked the mechanism and greeted her with an angry face, ready to scold her. Her expression immediately changed upon seeing her, to a serious one.

  ?My Lady...?, she gasped. ?We have to get out... Where is Oto??

  ?Calm down, take a breather?

  The Emissary gently grabbed her by the shoulders. Nene stared at her face, at those unnatural and enigmatic bronze eyes, usually reminiscent of those of a child. They were fixated on her, attentive, questioning, and burning with emotions.

  ?Relax, then tell me what's happening?

  ?Nomads were spotted?, Nene said. ?The mayor ordered everyone to gather within the walls. Has Oto gone out hunting??

  ?Yes, together with Kora?

  Jiriel left the house and slammed the door. She scanned the horizon as if searching for something. Nene followed suit but saw nothing.

  ?My Lady, what do we do??

  ?Go to town, I'll take care of it?

  ?I want to help you!?

  ?No. I’ll be faster by myself. You have to leave, now! I'll take Oto to safety. Go!?

  Nene wanted to obey, but her legs refused to move, due to fear of what she was beholding. The Emissary had noticed it before her, but by then, she could see it too:

  From the road at the foot of the hill, the one that led to the Principality, and then continued east, crossing the forest that lay between the sharp mountains to the south and the large tree where the sanctuary of the Cloud Folk stood, someone was coming. The howl of the wind whipping across the top of the hill was muffling the sound of countless hooves pounding on the dirt track.

  Proceeding in an almost orderly line, the horde was heading towards them. Hundreds of horses and as many riders, a mass of barely distinguishable dark figures was proceeding quickly. In a few minutes, they would have been at the foot of the hill, and in a few more to Kumhar.

  Jiriel shoved Nene, awakening her from her terrified admiration before such a chilling sight.

  ?I said go!?, the Emissary ordered.

  So she ran. The walls were their only chance. What she had just seen was far beyond her expectations. She had believed that nomads lived in small tribes, extended families of heretical savages who thrived by ranching and occasionally raiding, but that was different. She hadn't even witnessed the entirety of their forces, yet there were hundreds of them. A regiment of Knights could have matched them in battle, but not the city guard of Kumhar.

  Would the Emissary have protected them? Was it legitimate to hope for divine intervention? In the past, Jiriel had attacked Adanara to protect the city, but would she do the same to the nomads? Normally Nene would have had no doubts about it, but considering what she had recently experienced, she no longer knew what to think, neither about the Emissary, nor about those unknown people, whom she would once have branded as servants of the Evil One. What if their souls were clean, allowing them to elude the wrath of the Emissary?

  Still exhausted from running uphill, she rushed down. She saw the almost deserted fields, hastily abandoned, except for those who were lingering in an attempt to carry animals or bags of seeds and other goods to safety. When she reached the farms, she came across a man desperately trying to get a pig to follow him. The two were on the muddy path, alone, surrounded by empty, silent buildings, crops swaying in the wind, and the shouting by guards from the city.

  ?What are you doing here?!?, Nene yelled. ?We have to leave!?

  The man was extremely old. He was on his knees, and raised his head slowly. He was trying to push the pig towards the gates, but the animal was grunting, sometimes squealing, and didn't want to follow him.

  ?I can't?, the man complained. ?I only have this one pig left!?

  ?It will be worthless if the nomads kill you!?, she replied. ?Come, leave it!?

  ?But… it's all I own…?

  The old man, close to tears, finally stood up. Nene called for him as she ran towards the gates. She waited for the bizarre geezer, who limped behind her, glancing over his shoulder every now and then at his precious pig: he had lost everything.

  The gates weren’t yet completely closed. The heavy reinforced wooden doors were ajar, leaving just enough space for people to pass through. Some guards were helping stragglers carry their bags inside when possible. Nene saw a pile of large bags on the side of the road, loads too bulky to carry inside, which the guards had forced their owners to abandon.

  ?You! Move!?, a soldier shouted.

  Nene grabbed the old man's hand and almost dragged him. The man did his best to keep up. They ran to the breach in the gates. The guards let them pass. They were agitated, most with helmets already on their heads, spears and clubs in hand.

  ?Quick!?, a guard ordered. ?We’re gathering the elders at the manor, bring your grandfather there!?

  ?I don't even know her!?, the old man grumbled. ?My pig!?, he cried.

  ?You know me, I'm Nene, we're basically neighbours! Hurry up! Where’s your family??

  While arguing, they finally managed to enter the city. There were people camped everywhere on the sides of the street, most surrounded by bags and other luggage. They were sitting on the ground, while the soldiers walked among them, handing out clubs, sticks and wooden shields. After receiving those crude weapons, or while wielding their own, such as pitchforks and hoes, they gathered with the guards, who were organising them into small groups and then distributing them along the wall. Some were held back by their families, crying children or worried elders, who argued with the soldiers to prevent their loved ones from being involved in the upcoming battle.

  A middle-aged woman ran towards Nene. She was wearing work clothes and still had her sunshade on her head, having just escaped from the fields adjacent to the city.

  ?Dad! Dad, I'm here!?

  ?Fiona, help! The pig!?, the old man replied.

  ?The pig??

  ?This stupid girl forced me to leave the pig!?

  ?That's not true!?, Nene protested. ?I was just trying to save you?

  ?Dad, are you okay?? she asked, then turned to Nene. ?Thanks, I lost sight of him in the confusion. I was afraid he was stuck outside?

  ?You're welcome?, she replied. ?I'm… sorry about the pig?

  The woman took her old man by the hand and led him towards the manor, while he continued to complain about his precious animal. A pig was undoubtedly a prized possession for a farmer, but was he really willing to die for it?

  She looked around. Where was Nila? She had to find her, and quickly. She caressed the hilt of her sword as if to calm herself. Unfortunately, it failed miserably. Civilians shouting and soldiers screaming all around, the confusion and desperation of the people of Kumhar were overwhelming her.

  Until a soldier stood in front of her. She was a woman slightly older than her. Her eyes were bugged out. She was carrying some smooth sticks under her arms, the kind used during spear training.

  ?Hey, you! Did they give you a weapon already??, she asked.

  ?“Weapon”??, Nene replied absently.

  Her words shocked the soldier, who looked at the sticks she was carrying. She gulped visibly.

  ?This is all we have…?, she said, her voice trembling.

  ?I have mine?, Nene explained, partially unsheathing her sword.

  ?Then go to the walls. Others will tell you what to do?

  Nene's weapon was not something a common person could afford, which immediately changed the guard's attitude. Unlike her more experienced comrades, that girl seemed ever more scared than civilians, and in desperate need of comfort.

  ?We'll be fine… will we??, the soldier asked.

  Nene didn't dare respond. She nodded without conviction, trying not to scare her even more. The girl noticed her hesitation and became paler. She was most likely about to vomit from the tension. Nene took her leave and followed her instructions. She walked up to one of the stairs, close to the stone portion of the city wall, hoping to find Nila.

  Luck was on her side, because at the base of the staircase, amidst the coming and going of guards and militia, standing out among helmets, she saw a pointed hat, the terrifying headdress worn by witches in popular fairy tales and ghost stories. She made her way through people who were running left and right, receiving several hits and narrowly avoiding being run over by a large man, who cut her off while carrying a large log on his shoulder. She kept her eyes on Adanara's hat. Luckily it was not moving away from her, instead, it was remaining in place.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally saw her, and Nila next to her. Nila's appearance, however, caused her optimism to vanish. Nila commonly wore pretty, or at most practical, clothes, was messy in the morning, composed and kind most of the time. The vision of the person she loved, with a tight leather helmet on her head and a small round wooden shield in her hand, while still wearing her white nightgown underneath, filthy with mud, was something that truly made her realise the gravity of the situation. That morning they all were torn from their beds in the worst way possible. Nene barely had time to pick up her sword and put on her boots. In contrast, Adanara wore her bizarre tailored clothes, as if she had wasted time getting dressed despite the looming danger. Sonhir was with them, strangely calm and aloof, also armed with a shield and a staff.

  ?Nene!?, Nila saw her.

  Nene ran towards them. Nila hugged her passionately, even too much, almost to the point of hurting her.

  ?I was worried! Have you found Oto??

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  ?The Emissary is looking for him. This morning he went out into the forest with Kora?

  ?They'll be fine?, Adanara interjected. ?He's safe with Kora?

  ?Sir?, she said, turning to the mayor. ?I saw the horde approaching! I think they're at the foot of the hill by now!?

  Sonhir didn't say a word. He was visibly tense, like everyone else. With a gesture he called a boy to him, his assistant, almost unrecognisable with the visor helmet covering his face.

  ?Go to the captain, tell him to wait as long as possible. I wanna try to negotiate?

  ?To the captain. Wait. Negotiate?, the young man repeated, stammering.

  The mayor rested both heavy hands on his shoulders and gave him a shake. They exchanged a nod of understanding. The assistant hurried away, and Sonhir turned to Adanara.

  ?Girl, do you think you can scare them away if things get bad??

  ?What do you mean??

  ?Nomads move in search of pastures or villages to raid. Long story short, they're here for our harvest or our land. If they are willing to talk, I will seek a diplomatic solution. If not… I still want to avoid fighting them if possible. Can you scare them away??

  ?Why her??, Nila asked. ?Why not have Jiriel intervene??

  ?Jiriel isn't here at the moment?

  Adanara exchanged a look with her sister, then with Nene. Finally, she raised her hands to the brim of her hat and pulled it down over her face, as if to hide.

  ?I don't think they'll be scared by a little wind...?, she admitted.

  ?Perhaps they will be afraid of your magic if they see you performing it on top of the walls. A show of strength, so to speak?

  ?They could target her!?, Nila protested.

  ?Let's go?, Adanara replied. ?I think… I think I can at least try?

  ?Ada…?

  Adanara did not dare look at her sister. Instead, she turned towards Nene. The witch had teary eyes, as she turned her back to Nila. Nene remembered how they had fought side by side against the dragon. She got how she felt and wanted to support her. Had she developed an understanding with a witch? She grabbed Nila by the hand.

  ?I'll keep her safe?, she said. ?Let's follow the plan. Adanara can make a difference?

  ?What?!?, Nila whined. ?No... How??

  ?Well… for example… If the nomads use bows and arrows, she could deflect the projectiles with a gust. Can you??

  Adanara grinned sinisterly. It was obvious that she was acting tough to overcome the tension, but seeing her regain her intolerant expression gave Nene a sense of familiarity and confidence.

  ?Yeah?, the mayor agreed. ?Come on, let's hurry!?

  The screams of the lookouts warned everyone that time was running out. The town was in a frenzy. The militia rushed to the walls, while the last stragglers hurriedly fled towards the innermost areas of the city. Nene followed Sonhir up the stairs, almost dragging Nila with her. She felt the urge to take her far away, but it wasn’t time yet to think about that possibility. Deep inside she feared, or perhaps hoped, that Nila had planned how to escape if necessary. Adanara followed them with a dark, frightened expression, bearing an enormous weight on her shoulders: if Sonhir had failed to deal with the nomads, the difference between a morning of harmless terror or a bloody battle would have been up to her.

  They conquered the crest of the hill in silence. The rays of the still low sun cast their shadows on the slope. Their formation expanded. More than a hundred men on horseback flowed slowly from the top of the hill at a gentle trot, like a river in flood, bypassing the Emissary's abode as water avoids an obstacle along its course. The sight of the house, surrounded, made Nene tremble: Oto was still missing. She squeezed Nila's hand with all her strength, and she did the same.

  The people of Kumhar were gathered on the walls. Fear was palpable. In the overall silence, except for the roar caused by the advancing horde, every whisper, every frightened moan could be heard. Nene and the others were on the left side of the main gate. On the opposite side, the one closest to the farms and the hill, a white banner was raised, mounted on a wooden pole at least three metres long. A soldier vigorously waved a white flag, a universal sign of non-hostility. Sonhir approached the edge of the walkway at the top of the walls and looked towards the hill.

  ?Inquisitor??, he called.

  ?Yes??, Nene replied.

  ?If you know a way to summon Jiriel, please do so?

  ?I… I can try?, she lied.

  She strongly believed that Jiriel did not answer prayers. She never dared ask, but something told her that was the case, especially while the Emissary was busy looking for Oto. However, she closed her eyes and begged her to come to her rescue. Although praying was useless, hopefully it could give a little courage for both her and the mayor.

  ?What's happening?? Adanara asked.

  Nene opened her eyes. The horde stopped at the edge of the fields. The first lines of knights were deployed scattered and disorganised. The books of the Knights of the Church explained how a regiment should move in a deliberately disorderly manner in some situations, such as to limit the damage suffered by a volley of arrows. The nomads did not dare to enter the farms or trample on the crops. The rearguard fell behind the vanguard and waited. Maybe they were studying them, maybe they didn't want to damage the fields they were about to plunder. The raiders were close enough that Nene could almost make out their faces. They wore dark fur clothes and helmets adorned with animal heads, hunting trophies, which gave them a bestial appearance as in the terrible tales handed down by the Church. They were rumoured to be among the worst of heretics, committing blasphemies and worshipping the Evil One, in the lands beyond the borders.

  The closest ones were about two hundred metres from the walls, just outside the optimal range of a common bow. Most carried short weapons and had no shields, which was unsuitable for a siege. On one hand, they appeared to have military knowledge, on the other they were completely unprepared. Was that a coincidence? Did they lack the materials or skills to build longer weapons and shields? Or maybe they weren’t expecting to come across a wall. Nene felt a sliver of hope: perhaps they would give up, given the insurmountable obstacle.

  ?Mayor!?, the lookout shouted. ?They're coming forward! Three of them!?

  Nene looked in the direction indicated by the man: three riders were proceeding at a small trot along the muddy avenue that led from the farms to the city. Sonhir took a deep breath, cleared his throat several times and muttered a few appropriate phrases to himself, trying out different intonations.

  ?I hope they speak our language…?, he sighed.

  The three knights stopped about fifty metres from the walls. The one in the centre, a colossal man, also dressed in black fur, stood out among the others because of the bizarre pyramidal helmet he wore, from the top of which two branching horns extended horizontally, decorated with red ribbons. It reminded Nene of the Prince's tapestries she saw in history books.

  The man dismounted from his horse. He observed the pig sitting in the middle of the road for a moment, then he walked towards the gates. After a few metres, he stopped. He pulled off his heavy helmet, revealing messy blond hair and beard. He left his helmet on the ground. He did the same with the curved sword he carried, knelt and raised his hands to the sky, as if in a sign of surrender.

  ?I am Bugra, son of Hulmiir?, he announced at the top of his lungs, in a deep voice. ?I come in peace?

  Sonhir took a breath. For anyone who knew him, seeing him so serious, so calm, was a more unique than rare sight. The irascible, gruff man with a soft spot for drinking was gone, replaced by the representative of the city, determined to keep his people and their homes safe.

  ?I am Sonhir?, he replied in a similar fashion. ?Magistrate of Kumhar. There’s a lot of you, for one who comes in peace?

  ?Am I speaking to the chief of this village??, the stranger asked, standing up.

  ?Yes, it's me?, Sonhir said. ?You say you come in peace, what brings you here??

  ?We have heard that the Holy Witch lives here. If it's the truth, I would like to meet them?

  Everyone turned towards Adanara, who turned pale. Nila took her hand and pulled her back, away from the edge of the walls.

  ?What do you want from this “Holy Witch”??, asked the mayor, feigning ignorance.

  ?Their help. Our land is cursed. It is said that they can heal it. Please grant me an audience with the Holy Witch. I'll come alone if that's what it takes to gain your trust?

  Sonhir paused to think. He continued to observe the array of knights, then Adanara, then the guards lined up at the gates.

  ?Fine, but we won't open the doors?, he announced. ?Throw him a rope!?

  Bugra cautiously approached the city walls, well aware of being alone and in danger, in the middle of enemy territory, with dozens of weapons pointed at him. Two Kumhar soldiers secured a rope to the top of one of the trunks that made the palisade, in the older part of the fortification, and lowered it. The captain of the guard stood behind them, sword drawn, ready to cut the rope or fight if necessary. The rope fell from the fence and hit the ground with a thud. Bugra wrapped it around his arm and planted his feet against the wall. Despite his impressive size, he climbed with surprising agility. In a very short time, he was at the top of the fence, but no one helped him up. The guards kept their distance, their weapons aimed at him. As soon as he finished climbing, the man raised his hands.

  ?Let's go?, Sonhir ordered. ?Adanara??

  The witch looked at him fearfully, as if torn from a nightmare, still hand in hand with her sister.

  ?Girl, they came here for you?, the mayor explained. ?Come and talk to ‘em?

  ?What if it's dangerous??, Nila protested.

  ?We're all in danger?, the man grumbled through gritted teeth.

  ?Nila, let's go with her?, Nene suggested. ?There will be us and the guards, everything is fine?

  ?As big as he is, he's still just one man?, added Sonhir, heading down the stairs.

  They left the walls and crossed the stretch of road in front of the gates, where the militia was holding their position, mostly unaware of what was happening. The faces of those farmers and artisans, inadequately armed and full of tension, made Nene want to reassure them, to tell them something comforting, but the truth was she wasn’t sure what was going on. For the moment they were not under attack, the nomads did not seem openly hostile… Although, they had shown up at their doors with an army, armed to the teeth.

  Sonhir shouted to make way along the wooden steps that led to the old palisade. When they reached the top, they found the leader of the nomads kneeling on the walkway, with his hands raised, surrounded by four guards plus the captain. Even if he was kneeling, he was almost as tall as Nene. That man was as big as the Emissary. His dark grey fur robes were reinforced with studded leather on the sleeves and shins, and steel pauldrons shaped like a buckler. He had a large round nose that stood out on top of a thick, messy moustache. He had icy, almost white eyes and a determined gaze. He was visibly anxious, being surrounded by hostiles and with four spears pointed at him. On his belt, he carried a soft pouch, from which some pink flowers were sprouting, and another bulging bag. His heavy brown fur boots were as big as Nene's entire torso. She shuddered at the sight of that colossus from a culture she had heard only horrible things about.

  ?He’s not armed?, the captain reported.

  ?Thanks, I'll take care of it now?, Sonhir replied.

  Bugra raised his head when he recognized the voice of the "village chief" with whom he had spoken earlier. His gaze settled on Adanara, or rather, on her absurd pointy hat. Sonhir stood in front of him, blocking his field of vision.

  ?You really came alone...?, he commented with admiration.

  ?No risk is too great if it can save my people?, he replied. ?We don't want to fight. You seem like a wise man, I don't think you want that either?

  ?We can agree on that. So? May I know why you came here with an army??

  ?We are not an army, we are hunters?, explained Bugra. ?Tega Urok. Volunteers from all the tribes, to fight the beasts?

  ?I don’t understand?, Sonhir admitted.

  ?Our land is cursed. A terrible, ancient witch gathers her followers at her lair. Our people live off sheep farming, we don't have walls or stone houses like you do. The beasts that serve the witch have driven many tribes away from their usual pastures, so we fought back...?

  ?So…?

  ?We have only collected defeats?, the man said, mortified. ?No matter how many beasts we take down, more appear. The witch's lair corrupts everything nearby. We are desperate. We will never win until we eliminate the witch herself?

  Nene held back the urge to intervene in the discussion. What the man was describing sounded just like the plague of damnation, ancient and widespread. The Lightbringer Knights had fled their homeland for similar reasons, and if a regiment like the Church's could not deal with such a threat, it was unlikely that any warrior could.

  ?I'm very sorry?, the mayor said. ?But what do we have to do with it??

  Bugra hesitated to speak. He continued to look at Adanara, who was close to tears, feeling at the centre of that discussion. She too had grown up in the Principality, listening to Father Cosco's sermons, educated according to Church. She likely shared with Nene the fear of those nomads, considered savage murderers and worshipers of the Evil One.

  ?Rumours among merchants say that in this village lives a person who can appease beasts and destroy witches. They call them the Holy Witch. They say that their magic can destroy the corruption that pervades our land?

  ?Uhm… Why should I believe you??

  Bugra bowed his head, heartbroken. Seeing such a giant close to tears was something unheard of, yet the man's voice shook under Sonhir's sharp words.

  ?Please… We are willing to pay any price?

  Unexpectedly, Adanara stepped forward. The captain of the guards blocked her with his arm, but she pushed him away and stood next to the mayor.

  ?It's me?, she said. ?The… Holy Witch?, she added embarrassed. ?I will help you?

  Bugra looked at her in shock. He smiled, his tear-filled eyes shining. Sonhir cleared his throat.

  ?Wait, wait. No hasty decisions. There's still an army out there. I don't like it?

  ?I will disperse the hunters?, Bugra said hurriedly. ?I'll do anything. Please, Holy Witch, save us!?

  ?That’s a starting point?, the mayor agreed. ?Tell your people to leave?

  ?I will send the bulk of the group away, but allow me to keep a few warriors with me. I will need them to escort the Holy Witch?

  ?Captain??

  ?Three men, not one more?, he said. ?And they will have to hand over their weapons?

  ?As you wish. Please, allow me to stand?

  When the captain nodded, the guards withdrew their spears. Bugra stood up, towering over them. He approached the edge of the fence and put his hands around his mouth.

  ?Ta Ke!?, he shouted.

  At his call, one of the knights waiting in the middle of the farms galloped towards the walls. When he got close, he suddenly slowed down. He walked the last few metres slowly, looking up with a worried expression. Bugra instructed him to lead the horde towards the witch's lair and await his return. He also reported that he had chosen three warriors who would remain with him, to accompany him once the negotiations with the mayor, or as they called him, the village chief, were concluded.

  After a brief exchange of shouts from above and below a city wall crowded with armed citizens, Ta Ke, if that was his name, trotted away at full speed. Bugra, in the meantime, knelt in front of Adanara and offered her the purse containing flowers he was carrying.

  ?Holy Witch, accept my offer?

  ?Call me Adanara, please... What is it??

  ?They are rare Fog Flowers. A pledge of friendship?

  ?Are they poisonous??, Sonhir asked.

  ?They're... they're camellias?, Nila intervened. ?But… Of a very rare variety. I have never seen them except in illustrations?

  ?Are they poisonous??, Adanara insisted.

  ?No!?, Nila and Bugra replied in unison.

  ?They are enchanted flowers used to prepare a potion that can regress ageing?, the man added.

  ?So says a legend?, Nila commented.

  Adanara reached out a hand fearfully. Bugra bowed his head and handed her the bag with a solemn gesture. When the witch finally accepted his gift, he smiled.

  ?They're leaving!?, a lookout announced.

  Nene looked up the hill. As promised, the horde of nomads was galloping away, towards Jiriel's house, and then disappearing on the opposite slope. Only three nomads remained, stationed along the muddy avenue among the farms, waiting. As the horde disappeared from view, the citizens of Kumhar rejoiced. People shouted, repeating the lookout's message, laughing and crying. The militia abandoned their weapons, and people began to hug and dance, to vent the tension accumulated since that morning. Even some of the guards let themselves go into collective euphoria, and the captain breathed a sigh of relief.

  Amid that blaze of joy at an averted threat, Bugra was kneeling in front of a confused and embarrassed Adanara. Nila hugged her from behind, waking her from her stupor.

  ?Let's wait until they're far away, then we'll send someone to check those three?, the captain ordered.

  ?Yessir?, a soldier replied.

  ?And the civilians??, another asked.

  ?It’s better for everyone to stay inside the walls for a little longer. We'll set up patrols to make sure they're gone?

  ?He's coming with me?, Sonhir said, nodding towards Bugra.

  ?You two, with the mayor as escort?

  ?Let's go and talk in a quieter place?, the mayor suggested.