Chapter 8A clamorous knocking filled the house.
Gryss’s eyes opened first in shock and then in disbelief as he eventually identified the noise, and it was a far from genial village elder who struggled out of his chair to answer the door.
His dog was not pleased either, and the two of them wore almost identical expressions of world-weary irritation as they lumbered sleepily down the hallway towards the cause of this unconscionable disturbance.
‘It’s Dalmas Morrow, you know...’ Gryss began crossly as he opened the door. He stopped. There was no one there.
‘Gatherers, Gryss sir, gatherers! The gatherers are coming!’ An anxious and disembodied voice startled Gryss further into wakefulness. Struggling to gather his wits he glanced from side to side, looking for the bearer of this strange me
