There was agreement from around the table. The representatives chose this moment to turn, each to his neighbour, to enumerate the extent of the damage that had visited each district.
Feather felt the blood rise up his neck, and looked down at his clasped hands. He wanted to jump to his feet and tell them about the worse disasters that had occurred to those Outside. He wanted to lay a picture before them of the devastated land, the crushed limbs, the bloodied mess of death among the ruins of the land. He would have liked to tell them of the years’ worth of trade treasures washed away in the wild realignment of the river, of hungry orphaned children and stumbling, dazed old people. But it was not, he reminded himself, a competition for the direst fortune. It was a faint chance to win some a
