His cloak was his crowning glory; sable,thick and black and soft as sin."Bet he killed them all himself,he did",Gared told the barracks over wine,"twisted their little heads off.our mightly warrior." They had all shared the laugh. It is hard to take orders froms a man you laughed at in your cups,Will reflected ad he sat shivering atop his garron.Gared must have felt the same.

The night of The White Walks