Roy was in a hurry, prodding his steeds to pull the cart faster. He had just finished selling the Rine-beats at the Bryerstone market and was on his way to meet his family at their cottage. It was a very special day. It was his son's tenth birthday. As he turned the bend near McAlister's Wash, he had to come to a sudden stop. A large black carriage was blocking the road. From it, a large man in a full cloak, with a sword drawn approached him.

"Roy O'Hara?"

Roy ...