“Is it always the red riders?” asked the girl.

“The Jiadin tribe,” nodded the merchant. “It is rumored that their leader has gone mad. They are the largest, meanest tribe in Fakara. The other tribes fear them and well they should. When I ended my last run through Fakara, there were villages in the Jabul River area that were wiped out too. I did a good business around Lake Jabul, so I was hesitant to make this run.”

“So it is spreading,” guessed Rejji.

“More than you can imagine,” nodded the merchant. “On this trip I have seen villages as far East as the south fork of the Meliban River devastated, which is about as far as I go into Fakara. There is no safe place in this country any more.”

“What does that have to do with burying the bodies?” questioned Rejji.

Brontos looked over at his passengers as if weighting his words and the effect they would have. Finally, he compressed his lips and sighed.

“Something is feeding on the bodies of the dead,” Brontos stated. “Wherever the bodies have been buried, a nearby village was destroyed the very next day. When there was nobody left to do the burials, the attacks stopped for a while. At least that is how it appears to me.”

“You mean the red riders are eating the dead?” quizzed Rejji. “That is crazy. If it were true, why would they leave after they killed everyone?”

“It is not the Jiadin that are feeding on the bodies,” answered the merchant. “The Jiadin are just doing the killing. I don’t know who or what is doing the feeding. There are rumors that the leader of the Jiadin is possessed by evil spirits. Maybe truth. Maybe not. I don’t plan to go there and ask him.”