In his short life, Tavi had never known such fear. He now sat, by himself, in the very corner of the prison tent into which he’d been thrown. His fear was such that he’d curled himself up into a fetal position hugging his knees and staring at the ground. Gone was the bravado, the aggression, and the belief in his immortality. It was replaced by an awful fear that he was going to die. What an idiot. He had stormed into the village square, spoiling for a fight. And that’s exactly what he got. Of c