Conaan stopped, his breath faltering a little as he took in the almost effeminate young man. He was trembling, and there was no way someone so drenched in fear could bring lies or hearsay to him.

"What did you say?"

His voice was low, so low it felt like it could break right in the middle.

Eric swallowed hard, his chest lightly heaving now. "It...it was...the night of the festival. Just on the outskirts, on the plain path to the palace. I...I saw them."

"Tell me. Name them." Conaan's eyes were wide now, his fingers immediately seeking his dagger.

"I...It..."

"Speak, young man. Speak. You have already wasted so much...