[Belin]

Hillmen

Wolf, resolved, ducked through the low doorway. His gaze passed briefly over his nephew and niece and missed the woman entirely to settle on his brother. "Call a meeting," he said briefly. "I want to talk to everyone." Knife winced slightly at his wife’s smirk, but rather than embarrass himself further with even an oblique challenge, he nodded his understanding and left the hut without a word. He knew Wolf better than anyone (certainly better than Bear did), and he understood what that calm, preremptory tone meant. Wolf nodded slightly and picked up his spear. He wanted it with him at the meeting. He had to show them that this was no mere hunting party or raid, but that they were once again taking up the old war against their ancient enemies. A real war... Wolf sighed quietly. He would not admit to fear, but such an event had not occurred in his lifetime and he had only the tales of his half-mad old grandfather to tell him what to expect. Those tales, already as vague as the old man’s memory could make them, had further faded during the long years it had resided in his own, and all that was left to him was the general impression of unspeakable horror. Of course, he had only been a boy at the time, and had probably understood it to be worse even than it was, but there were so many of these people like the Dunedáin...

Kestrel’s eyes were still on him, one sharp and bright, the other dead. He smiled grimly at the sight of her scarred face, thinking that, whatever this invasion might mean, surely it could be little worse than what they had to face on a regular basis. Knife was right about that much.

He sat by the hearth, blank-faced and unreadable as he steeled himself to the decisions he’d made. He hated making plans that would result in deaths, and he hated dealing with the aftereffects of those deaths, but anything was preferable to starvation. Better not to keep thinking about decisions that were already made. Better to just talk to Kestrel, who was a good sensible woman, and whose marriage to his brother he’d supported. She’d have questions, of course. Very well, he could tell her a little; after all, from whom would their plans be concealed once the war had begun?