[piosenniel]

‘Right, then.....everyone gather round me here. And you older boys and girls, gather up the littlest ones or herd them over.’ Rôg waved his arm at the rag-tag assembly of youngsters, drawing their attention to where he was standing. They came stumbling toward him, the edges of their sleeves or of what served as their thin cloaks wrapped over their mouth and noses, and their eyes half closed against the swirling sands.

‘Let’s get you tucked in here, in the overhanging shelter of this boulder. Can you squeeze in, take a seat with your backs against it. And the older ones, please tuck the smaller ones in against you.’

He pointed to four or five of the older children, one who had brought their sharp-pointed planting sticks along. ‘You, now, let’s arrange ourselves in front of those who are sitting. Keep your sticks at the ready in case any of the slavers come near us. Poke and slash at them is you can, otherwise retreat back beneath the shelter of the boulder, with the pointed ends facing outward like a prickly hedgehog.’ Rôg gave his charges an encouraging smile.

‘It will give me what time I need just in case I have to fight them off.’

He had looked away, toward where he thought the attack might come, before he had time to see the wondering frowns which wrinkled many of the youngsters faces.