at anything might enter。
But this uninvited guest was not the taunting flame…thing； the Storm King's minion。 The new voice was as different from that ghastly other as the quick from the dead。 The new voice did not mock or threaten…in fact； it did not even seem to be speaking to Simon at all。
It was a womanly voice； musical yet strong； shining in Simon's lightless dream like a beacon。 Though its words were sorrowful； it brought him a strange sense of fort。 Even though Simon knew that he slept； and was sure that it would only be the work of an instant to wake into the real world； the voice captivated him so that he did not wish to awaken just yet。 Remembering the wise； beautiful face he had seen in Jiriki's mirror； he was content to hover on the edge of wakefulness and listen； for this was the same voice； the same person。 Somehow； when that door into Simon had been opened； it was the mirror…woman who had e through。 Simon was infinitely thankful for that。 He remembered a little of what the Red Hand had promised him； and even in the shelter of sleep he felt frost upon his heart。
〃Beloved Hakatri； my beautiful son；〃 the woman's voice said； 〃how I miss you。 I know you are beyond hearing or beyond replying； but I cannot help speaking as though you were before me。 Too many times have the People danced the year's end since you went into the West。 Hearts grow cold； and the world grows colder still。〃
Simon realized that even though the voice sang through his dream； these words were not meant for his ears。 He felt like a beggar child spying on a rich and powerful family through a crack in a wall。 But just as the wealthy family might have sorrows a beggar could not understand…miseries unrelated to hunger or cold or physical pain…so the voice in Simon's dream； for all its majesty； seemed weighted with quiet anguish。
〃In some ways； it seems only the turning of a handful of moon…faces since the Two Families left Venyha Do'sae； the land of our birth across the Great Sea Ah； Hakatri； if only you could have seen our boats as they swept across the fierce waves！ Of silverwood they were crafted； with sails of bright cloth； brave and beautiful as flying fish。 As a child I rode in the bow as the waves parted； and I was surrounded by a cloud of scintillant； sparkling seafoam！ Then； when our boats touched the soil of this land； we cried。 We had escaped the shadow of Unbeing and won our way to freedom。
〃But instead； Hakatri； we found that we had not truly escaped shadow at all； but only replaced one sort with another…and this shadow was growing inside us。
〃Of course； it was long before we realized it。 The new shadow grew slowly； first in our hearts； then in our eyes and hands； but now the evil it caused has bee greater than anyone could have suspected。 It is stretching across all this land that we loved； the land to which we hastened long ago as to the arms of a lover…or as a son to the arms of his mother。
〃Our new land has bee as shadowed as the old one； Hakatri； and that is our fault。 But now your brother； who was ruined by that shadow； has himself bee an even more terrible darkness。 He casts a pall over all he once loved。
〃Oh； by the Garden that is Vanished； it is hard to lose your sons！〃 Something else was now peting for his attention； but Simon could only lie helplessly； unwilling or unable to awaken。 It seemed that some… where outside of this dream…that…was…not…a…dream； his name was being called。 Did he have friends or family who searched for him？ It did not matter。 He could not break away from the woman。 Her terrible sadness twisted within him like a sharpened stick or a bit of broken pot it would be cruel to leave her alone with her sorrow。 At last the voices that faintly called for him vanished。
The woman's presence remained。 It seemed that she wept。 Simon did not know her； and could not guess to whom she spoke； but he wept with her。
Guthwulf was feeling confused and irritated。 As he sat polishing his shield he tried to listen to the report of his castellain； who had just ridden down from Guthwulf s hold in Utanyeat。 He was not having much luck with either chore。
The earl spat citril juice into the floor rushes。 〃Say it again； man； you are making no serse at all。〃
The castellain； a round…bellied； ferret…eyed fellow； firmly repressed a sigh of weariness…Guthwulf was not the kind of master before whom one displayed imperfect patience…and started in again on his explanation。
〃It is simply this； Lord： your holdings in Utanyeat are nearly empty。 Wulfholt is deserted but for a few servants。 Almost all the peasants have left。 There will be no one to bring in the oats or barley； and harvest can wait little more than a fortnight。〃
〃My serfs have left！〃 Guthwulf stared distractedly at the boar and silver spears that sparkled on his black shield； the spearheads picked out in mother…of…pearl。 He had loved that coat of arms； once； loved it as he would a child。 〃How do they dare leave？ Who but me has fed the ugly louts all these years？ Well； hire others for harvest； but do not let those who fled e back again。 Not ever。〃
Now the castellain did make the smallest noise of despair。 〃My lord； Earl Guthwulf； I fear you have not been listening to me。 There are not enough free folk left in Utanyeat to hire。 The barons； your liege men； have their own problems and few workers to spare Fields everywhere in eastern and northern Erkynland are going to seed unharvested。 Skali of Kaldskryke's army across the river in Hernystir has cut a swath through all the border towns near Utanyeat； and will probably cross the river soon； having exhausted Lluth's country。〃
〃Lluth is dead； I am told；〃 Guthwulf said slowly。 He himself had been in King Lluth's house； the Taig。 His blood had flowed hot in his veins as he insulted the sheep…herder king in the midst of Lluth's own court。 That had been a few scant months ago。 Why did he feel so terrible now； so unmanned？ 〃Why are all these villains running away from their rightful homes？〃
The castellain looked at him queerly； as though Guthwulf had suddenly asked which direction was up。 〃Why？ Because of the wars and looting on their border； the chaos of the Frostmarch。 And the White Foxes； of course。〃
〃The White Foxes？〃
〃Surely you know of the White Foxes； Lord。〃 The castellain was almost openly skeptical。 〃Surely； since they came to the aid of the army you manded at Naghmund。〃
Guthwulf looked up； pawing reflectively at his upper lip。 〃The Norns； you mean？〃
〃Yes； Lord。 White Foxes is the name the mon people give them； because of their corpse…pale skin and foxy eyes。〃 He suppressed a shudder 〃White Foxes。〃
〃But what of them； man？〃 the earl demanded。 When there was no immediate answer； his voice began to rise。 〃What do they have to do with my harvest； Aedon shake your soul？〃
〃Why； they are ing south； Earl Guthwulf；〃 the castellain said； surprised。 〃They are leaving their nest in Naglimund's ruins。 People who must sleep in the open have seen them walking the hills by darkness； like ghosts。 They travel at night； a few at a time； and always moving southward…heading for the Hayholt。〃 He looked around nervously； as if only now realizing what he had said。 〃ing here。〃
After the castellain left； Guthwulf sat a long time drinking from a stoup of wine。 He picked up his helm to polish it； staring at the ivory tusks that lifted from the crest； then put it back down； untouched。 His heart was not in the task； even though the king expected him to lead the Erkynguard into the field a few days hence and his armor had not been thoroughly looked…to since the siege of Naglimund。 Things had not gone right at all since the siege。 The castle seemed ghost…ridden； and that damnable gray sword and its two blade…brothers haunted his dreams until he almost feared to go to bed； to fall asleep。。。
He set the wine down and stared at the flickering candle； then felt his melancholy spirits lift a little。 At least he had not been imagining things。 The countless odd night…sounds； the untethered shadows in the halls and mons； Ellas' vanishing midnight visitors； all these and more had begun to make the Earl of Utanyeat doubt his own good mind。 When