Across the Face of the World
Mustering those sheep on the morning of Midwinter's Eve - the sheep on which you and I and the whole village feasted just three days ago - that's what did it. I'm getting old and I can't move that many sheep on my own. She knew that.' He swallowed, and when he resumed speaking his voice came out thinly, as though being forced past a constric¬tion in his throat.
    'Haufuth, I asked the men of the village for help but no one came. The only one to lend a hand was Mahnum's boy.' He pointed back over his shoulder to the mounds of fresh earth.
    'Tinei found out that no one was coming to my aid. Then fool¬ishly I told her that the villagers were gossiping about me. She insisted on getting out of bed and helping. Stubborn woman! While I was in the village, she rounded up the sheep by herself. By the time Mahnum's boy and I arrived she had finished and gone back to her bed.' His voice lowered.
    'She never got up again.'
    'Kurr, I'm sorry,' came the lame reply.
    'Sorry? The villagers weren't sorry! They only came to the funeral to see if I'd turn up. Only came to gloat, to mock the old fool. Some of 'em probably thought I'd done her in!' He turned and spat on the ground. 'At least these two boys today were given some respect.'
    The Haufuth beckoned the old farmer towards the shadow of a tall, dark hedge. 'I must talk with you about those boys. I need your help.'

    Kurr laughed bitterly in reply, the shrug of his shoulders shaking his skeletal frame.
    'No, listen to me!' the Haufuth continued. 'I am in earnest. No one else can help me. Please! I listened to your little Midwinter speech, but thought nothing of it until the next morning when I heard something that - if it is true - is more important than you, or 1, or even this whole village. I trust no one else to keep this knowledge safe. Please listen.' His eyes pleaded with the old man.
    Kurr heard the concern in the Haufuth's voice. He grunted and nodded his head ungraciously.
    'Good!' Grinning weakly with relief, the Haufuth wiped the palms of his hands on his tunic, then led the farmer behind the hedge to a low tree stump. There was just enough room for both of them to be seated.
    The big man took a deep breath. The villagers believe that a group of brigands descended upon the village the morning after Midwinter, kidnapped Indrett for some foul purpose and burned down the house, killing the boys. At least, that is what I told them. But there is much more to it than that.
    'I don't sleep very well, on account of - well, you know, men my size find it difficult. On the morning after Midwinter, about an hour before dawn, I was woken by the sound of horses being ridden hard down the lane. I heard their riding gear, you under¬stand. I mean, horses don't make much noise in the snow. Still, I suppose you would know that, having horses.
    Well, I rose to find out what was happening. I had just opened my front door when four horsemen swept past, riding like a gale through the village and off along the Westway.'
    Kurr closed his eyes. He ached to be walking the hills of Swill Down, not listening to the Haufuth's gossip. But in spite of himself he stayed where he was.
    'Anyway, I followed their tracks back through the village to see where they had been. When I got to the end of the lane, I found Mahnum and Indrett's house ablaze, with the front door broken down and everything a mess. I rushed inside. It was still hard to see, you understand, in the half-light and with the smoke, so I didn't notice the boys for some time. When I found them I pulled them out, but I couldn't find Indrett. Anyway, the fire was taking hold, and I searched as long as I could, but I had to stop eventu-ally for fear of the flames.
    'I shouted for help but no one heard. Of all the times for some-thing like this to happen, it had to be the morning after Midwinter, when everyone was sleeping off their excesses of the night before. Anyway, I finally ran out of the house and went over to the boys. Leith was as still as

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