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Chapter IX

CHAPTER IX

At the crest of the valley, the eyes of Tancorix looked over the many tribes of Pictdom. So numerous were the men and women that arrived she couldn’t count their numbers. All of them came to the fight, but they celebrated all the way. At the periphery of the great forest of Syn, at the edge of the enormous plain of Kassidee, thousands of them amassed, sharing mirth.

Tancorix stayed back in the dim forest, seated on fallen logs, but let herself be seen many times by the multitude.

“It’s good to be seen by them all, but in small numbers. Let their wonder wrap about their minds.”

Tancorix heard and understood the words of Weaver, her wizardess of the wood. She read wisdom in her words, but made a curious observation over the diminutive assistant to Weaver, Ragala, and wondered if the elder was wise enough in her ways to comprehend the younger lass wanted her elder’s place. Then again, Tancorix mused, that was the natural order of the wood.

Quite a few chiefs of the Pict tr
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