“What is happening here?” The voice a roar. Like storm waves breaking against a cliff. All the power of a shipwife, of years of straining to be heard above wind and rain and battle pushed out into the air. It stopped the one-eyed windshorn right on the point of launching itself at him. Stopped Cwell on the point of defending him. Meas marched forward, jostling Joron to one side. “What is happening here?”
