Tellyth smelled the village before he saw it. The stench of wet ash cut through the petrichor of the forest and the musk of his dragon. Raising a fist, he called the column to halt. Palail came forward to meet him.

"Do you smell that too?" he asked.

The scout narrowed her eyes and nodded. Without a word, the taciturn aeldari ranger dismounted and stalked into the bushes. She soon disappeared from sight. Palail knew her job well; it had been she who had raced back to the capital to report of the disaster at Ghira's Folly. The rest of the column fidgeted atop their mounts. They were not his usual retinue. Every veteran was needed in Ynriad, training new aeldari to replace those he had lost.

His hands tightened on the reins at the memory of that betrayal. He forced himself to face forward, lest these conscripts see the scowl on his face.

No, these had been sent by the Polassi. Most were green troops barely fit to ride their beasts. At least they knew the area - he had spent the better part of the last month scouring backwoods trails and the hinterlands of Polassi land under the orders of the King.

After Liriel had escaped the guards escorting her to the eastern deserts, the Polassi tribe had expressed concern that the traitor Seer would continue to prey on them as she had before her first capture. They had insisted that the Ulluthani send a force capable of apprehending her. And Miythis had acquiesced, aware of the weakening of his power. Or just desperate for their approval; that damned Belasys had a golden tongue.

At least being in the field kept his mind off of the empty barracks.

Belasys himself had joined this expedition. He apparently wanted to play at soldiery. As if hearing Tellyth's thoughts, the courtier coaxed his gentle brachiosaur to the van, beside Tellyth. He bore the aristocratic face of the Polassi nobles, though at least he had not seen fit to adorn himself with the useless frippery common to them. Tellyth would have appreciated the concession to practicality more if it were not for the sense of distance the man exuded. Nodding towards the place Palail had disappeared into, he asked, "Do you expect trouble?"

"Perhaps," Tellyth replied. "Probably just a small fire."

"Or raiders," the Polassi leader said darkly before returning to the rest of the column.

Tellyth shrugged. The Polassi had accused other tribes of raiding their territory before. The last time it had happened, the King had called the Seer Anathan to determine the truth of the matter. He had summarily dismissed the accusation before the council, shaming the entire Polassi tribe. They had desisted in their grumbling since then, but it remained a sensitive subject for them.

Less than a quarter of an hour later, Palail emerged from the tree line. Her face was grim; then again, it usually was. She hurried over to Tellyth's mount, and he bent down to hear her whispered words. "It's bad. Signs of violence. Many buildings burned down."

"The villagers?"

"Didn't see any sign of survivors."

"What was that about survivors?" Tellyth hadn't noticed Belasys's dismounted approach.

"It looks like you were right. Someone or something attacked the village."

Belasys scowled at the pair. "Then what are we waiting for? Their trail is getting colder while we wait here!"

"We must be cautious. Whoever attacked them may still be waiting for us. We advance normally, but tell the men to keep their hands on their weapons and be ready for a fight," Tellyth spoke to him as he would any other soldier under his command, and realised the insult of the manner of address only too late.

"As you command," the Polassi snarled, whirling around to stride back to his men.

Tellyth stared after him, annoyance warring with pragmatism in his mind. Belasys was a leader among his own people, used to being treated with deference. It usually took some effort for such ingrained habits to be broken in Tellyth's own troops; the leaders of other tribes generally did not value mere skill for their war-leaders. A mistake he would not have made if he were in a normal state of mind.

"That one's going to be a problem," Palail muttered quietly as she remounted her own megadon.

Tellyth spurred his to a fast walk. Truth be told, the chance that the raiders were still waiting in ambush were low, but he did not want to take that risk.

The group saw nothing else on the short journey towards the remnants of the village. The twisting road eventually opened into a large clearing, probably a town square of some kind. Low, soft grass filled the space, dotted here and there with the tough, small-petalled flowers common in the region. It was surrounded by what had once been cosy homes or low wooden buildings - probably storehouses, meeting halls, or communal kitchens. It was hard to determine their purpose, given that so many of them were now ruined husks.

As the column moved in, Tellyth sucked in a breath. There were bodies in the square. Dozens of them, men, women, and children. He turned to give new orders to the men, but was slightly too late.

"Murderers!" Belasys cried, spurring his megadon forward. The rest of the Polassi troops followed, the shock of the scene clear on their faces. "Find them! Find any trace of them! We will have justice for this!" They charged into the clearing, scattering across the various trails leading away from it.

Beside Tellyth, Palail scowled. "They'll ruin any tracks that still remain."

Tellyth gestured towards the bodies. "What do you make of it?"

Palail scanned the clearing carefully. She dismounted once again and walked to the bodies, turning them over and examining their wounds. She walked around them fully, then scanned the tree line as well, seeking something Tellyth couldn't discern. All the while, the bellows of the megadons beneath agitated riders continued to echo from the forest.

At length, Palail returned. "They knew who was slaughtering them. Lined up in the clearing like it was market day. No weapons, no fear. Some of them tried to run, when it started. Killed by arrows from the treeline." She grimaced, dark eyes glaring at the scene. "Raiders don't do this. No profit in wanton slaughter."

Tellyth nodded at the summary. "This is a message."

"Or a setup."

Before he could question her further, Belasys reentered the clearing, stormclouds on his face. In his hands he held a scrap of fabric. "The Sillinstreed!" He rode closer, grinding his teeth together, until Tellyth could get a better look at his prize. A stitched emblem of lance and moon, set over a lake. The sigil of the Sillinstreed tribe. "This was on a body on one of the paths out of the village. Those Sillinstreed animals butchered my people! Now do you see?"

The rest of the group was reassembling in the clearing. The riders bore expressions of frustrated rage at their failure to stop the massacre or find the ones responsible. They had heard the courtier's proclamation, staring at the fabric like it had killed the people here itself.

Belasys continued his tirade, turning to his new audience. "We have suffered the insults and injuries of the Sillinstreed long enough! Each of you knows the depredations of their raids, the scorn in which they hold us! No longer can they deny the murderous toll they have taken! Here, before a member of the King's personal guard, we have proof -" he waved the scrap of fabric above his head, "- of their duplicity and treachery! We will have justice for this outrage!"

Behind him, Tellyth could only hear the words spoken in his offices just a few weeks ago. The King will order the destruction of the Mayanar and Sillinstreed.