“And? What did Oxel say?” Dancer crept out to that bloody spot on the floor of Skarling’s Hall, no more eager than Seff from Yaws had been. “Oxel’s dead.” There was a silence. Clover heard his own breath as he sucked it in. The wind sighed cold through the high windows. The river whispered at the base of the cliff beyond. Then the Great Wolf showed his teeth, and caught a fistful of Dancer’s shirt, and dragged him close. “He’s fucking what?” “Caul Shivers killed him! Cut his head off in the Circle!”
