

A figure walks bent forward under an armful of wands, and you cannot see his face.
That is the first thing. Every other card in this suit shows a face, or a back with the head up. Here the load is high enough and heavy enough that the person has disappeared behind it.
He is carrying them all at once, gathered awkwardly against his chest. There is no bundle, no strap, no sensible way of doing this. He has simply picked up everything and set off.
The wands are the same wands. One was offered in the Ace, planted in the Three, raised in celebration in the Four, carried in procession in the Six. Now all ten are in his arms and none of them are being used for anything.
Ahead, a village. He is close.
That is the cruelty of the card: he is nearly home and he cannot see it, because he is looking at the ground.
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