As the innkeeper washed his bowls and pans he watched the noble sitting in the common room near him.  The nobles usually sat on the other end of the common room by the great fireplace that gave heat, not by the small one where the innkeeper cooked and did his chores.
The old noble turned and their eyes met.
"Your eyes ask more questions than a chattering woman, my good man!" the noble remarked.  "Go ahead, speak!  I am far from the entertainment and would enjoy some conversation."
"You know me, my lord," the innkeeper answered, "Forgive my bad manners for staring but are you not Kosh?  I have not seen any of your people for many years.  It is said they angered some god and a great punishment has fallen upon them.  Would you tell me if such tales are true?
The old noble nodded.  "They are true, my good man," he answered, "they are hellishly true."
He got up, pulled his chair over to the sink and sat down again. "I will tell you of it," he continued, "if you will promise me that you will tell other men so they may not fall into folly as my people did.
Thirty years ago The Humes came to our country.  Our good King Fob welcomed them.  They asked of him if they might rebuild the old city of Tolmar and use it as a port to trade with us, that they would pay him a one per cent tribute of all their profits if they would be allowed to dwell in his land.  Now, the King, being wise, agreed, and for five years all was good.  Then two things happened....the great leader of the Hume was called away and did not know when he would return.  He left only a small garrison in their city.  Almost the day of his departure King Fob died, and his son Tag Na took the throne.
Now, Tag Na was jealous of the Hume.  He wanted more than the small tribute and he had a friend, a priest, named Sha Ra, who shared his greed and encouraged him to make war on the Humes.  So he gathered his army and attacked the city.  The Hume fought bitterly and with great cunning.  Five for every one of theirs died.
But the city was taken, and, its treasure, and we thought the matter done.  Then the Hume leader returned, and when he found what we had done he sent a message to our King.
'We lived among you in peace,' it said, 'we helped you prosper.  Now you have murdered our warriors, our old men and our old women and you have taken our children into bondage.  I withdraw for now, but I will return, and when I do such a vengeance will fall on you that when it is done no ruler of any of the twenty kingdoms will dare raise arms against us again.'
Several months passed and we thought perhaps the Hume's words were empty wind.  But then it started.  No matter how diligent we were, no matter how great our fortifications one by one our cities woke to find themselves taken.  In the night the Humes with their magic, had taken every man's dangles and cut the women also and taken the womanness out of them.  For the time of women no longer came upon them.
From the youngest maiden to the oldest hag they did this.  City by city they came, village by village, night by night until only the capital was untouched.  The King, knowing his doom was coming, threw himself from his own parapet onto the rocks below.  And his Queen likewise bashed herself.  At the very sight of their funeral pyre the Humes came.  Now as the years pass our cities become emptier and emptier.  Nowhere in them are the cries of children heard.
The priest, Sha Ra must listen night after night as his daughters pray to the Gods that the time of women comes upon them and they bear before their maidenhood passes, but he knows it will not, that their gods have forsaken them.
And the Humes have punished him in an even greater manner.  They have taken as their tribute the two cities on the northern island.  They have no desire for any of the others.
So, as our numbers dwindle he needs the priest to negotiate with the surrounding Kingdoms to buy from the Humes his peoples' cities with payments of grain and gold, silver and jewels.  The old priest is made to help give away the land he loves the most."
The old noble's words trailed off.
"A harsh punishment," the innkeeper remarked.  "I will remember your words, Old One.  I will tell them to others, that the night of The Humes and their terrible vengeance will be well remembered."
A young page crossed the room, approached the noble and bowed.  "Lord Sha Ra," he announced, "your bed is ready. You really should not be up this late.  Your strength is not great."
"It is great enough," the noble answered.  "But you are right.  Ka Sha Do, it is time for bed."
The old noble rose and turned to the innkeeper. "Good night, sir," he bade.  "Thank you for listening to my tale of woe."
"I am honored, my lord," the innkeeper answered.
He watched the old man being helped across the room.  "Yes, my lord," he commented to no one in particular. "I will tell others of your sorrow, and I will pray to the gods that you find peace, as all men should find peace."