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A man stood over her, and Luc guessed he was the one who made her stop crying earlier.

Every eye was turned toward him, and Luc glanced back to see where the rest of his people were.

Rev and Kikir were just behind him, some of the others were coming up from behind, but they knew not to trap themselves in the narrow lane, so Rafe would have the rest of them spread throughout the village.

Massi and the other four archers would be somewhere on high ground.

Luc shaded his eyes and looked for likely perches, and guessed some were to his right, on the low hill above the field, and others would be hidden high in the trees in front of him.

He moved forward, letting his horse pick its own way across the muddy ground.

An arrow shot at him, coming from the tight, huddled group in the corner.

It went wide, not even coming close, although someone behind him swore as it flew past them

He looked over his shoulder at his soldiers, to check if they were all right, and then turned back.

He could all but see the surprise, and then the fear, sweep over the group at his nonchalance.

A second arrow launched.

“Duck.” He barked the order to those behind him, because while the arrow wouldn’t hit him, it could hit one of them. He leaned to the side, aware that it was wise to at least look as if he were trying to avoid being hit, rather than explain the confidence he had that it simply wasn’t a possibility.

The arrow flew past, lost momentum and dropped to the ground.

“Can you stop trying to kill me?” he called. “I have archers of my own, and the next time you shoot, they might decide to shoot back. Given how close you’re all standing, it’s not certain who they might hit.”

Another ripple of shock went through the group.

But Luc had his eye on the man in the middle of the field, standing beside the woman who was now on her knees, resting her head on the chest of the young man she’d been crying over.

The man glanced briefly at the group in the corner. “Carvel, stop shooting.” He widened his stance, putting himself between Luc and the Rising Wave and the rest of the village. “You’ve already taken everything, why did you come back?”

Luc studied him. The man was lying. Not everything had been taken.

There was a protectiveness about the man, and Luc guessed he’d be a lot more desperate if they were going into winter with nothing.

But it was a good lie.

If Luc and the Rising Wavewerenew marauders, coming in a second wave, it wasn’t a stretch for the villagers to pretend they had been stripped of everything; that there was no more to take.

Luc respected that.

Massi stepped from the trees, just beyond the fence, and whistled to him.

He urged his horse forward, riding to the side, away from the huddled group, and met her at the wooden barrier.

“There’s a stockpile of vegetables, probably harvested from these fields, hidden under a thick tarpaulin and covered with leaves, just through the trees.” She paused as if to say more, then shook her head and disappeared back into the forest’s gloom.

Luc turned his mount and rode back to the leader.

The man had been watching him talk to Massi, and his face looked worried as Luc approached.

Luc guessed he was wondering if she’d found their stash of food.

“My name is Luc Franck. I’m the commander of the Rising Wave. We have taken Fernwell, and we control Kassia.”

There was a moment of silence as the man, and the people behind him, absorbed what he’d said. The woman crouched on the ground didn’t seem to care.