One by one they fall. My aim is true, my arrows fly straight to the mark each time. I hang my old bow on a limb beside me. At last I will try the sidhe-given yew, the precious wedding gift from my mistborn bride. The string sings like a harp! The curve of wood, strong and warm in my hand, reminds me of her smooth skin rising to my touch. Lazily I look down from my roost and choose who will die. This one, that one, and now another. Straight through the throat is best, to pierce the blood-pulse at the side of the neck. I take time, shift with the wind, and strike both near and far so that arrowstruck corpses don't pile up under my tree. Too many shots at once would betray my hiding place. While I bide my time, I watch the fighting from my lofty perch. Sure I am King of Archers, more than that, I am the Overseer of Death. I am untouchable, unseen, a god of doom. I am dizzy with the thrill of it.

When the fighting wanes, I let loose my last arrow into the eye of a young lad who might be the age of my brother, Brody, if the wolf hadn't got him. Just before the dart hits home, he looks up and sees me. His mouth drops open. I hear his last breath gather in a gasp. Then the arrow strikes. He gives one cry, the peep of a small bird, before he falls backwards. Still, he stares up at me with his one good eye, blue as the sky even when dulled by death. I turn my back and look towards the bog.

The morning sun throws long pale rays through the fog. The battle noise is fading. A wisp of smoke brings the smell of burning bodies. The Niafer war band is taking to the road. They pass, heedless, under my tree and gather the slain as they go. They pull out my arrows, curse them, spit on them and and break them. I cover my ears so I can't hear the snap. I wanted to retrieve them myself. Every crunch is like my own bones cracking. I see only a few Laigin warriors and they slink southward, defeated.

When I slip down from the tree, my feet feel strange on the ground. I have to lean against the trunk for awhile. I wish I was leaning against Winter Mist. Where is she now? I need to feel her strong, small arms around me. One kiss would restore me and then -

A low growl brings me keenly back to my senses. A pair of wolves, hunched low to attack!

Then a shrill whistle and they melt away into the woods. I stare after them in wonder.

"Sean!" a familiar voice calls out. Baine is running towards me. And Keu limps along behind her.

My greeting to her is, "My wife, have you seen -"

Baine throws her arms around me and lifts me off the ground with hugging. She is weeping and laughing at the same time. She doesn't let go of me until Keu catches up. His great arm is ripped to shreds and hangs lifeless.

In a voice as ragged as his arm, he says to me, almost gently, "Sean, you are chief of Magh Croimor now, lad."

At first it don't make sense. I think it must be a joke. When I laugh, it is shaky and high, like Baine's weep-laughter. "Not so! Da is -"

Then it hits me. "Da is -" I can't say the words. Keu lowers one shoulder and a muddy shield slides off his back. The bold raven shield of Magh Croimor dangles in front of me. My hands reach out to take it. I sit down under the tree and lay the shield across my knees. I wipe the mud away with the edge of my brat. My tears polish it clean. All the while I think of Da, remembering everything about him so I can never forget.

I don't know anything else until a shadow falls over me. I look up through a haze to see Winter Mist! My joy shrivels to sorrow when I see that she's bent to one side, her face pale with pain. I leap up. Baine is already beside her.

Keu stands near with horses ready. I see Winter Mist's mare among them.

With softest care, I wrap my sidhe-wife in my arms. I might as well be embracing the clouds, she is so faraway.

"We're going home," I whisper. "Baine is the best healer in all the land, she will make you well again. I am chief of Magh Croimor now, and no one will ever harm you again, I swear it!" I cup her tiny, elvin chin in my hand and look deeply into those strange, wild eyes that I love so well. "Aye, we're going home!"