Sig breathed in a long, deep breath, enjoying the sensation of the cold as it seeped into her lungs. They’d already had some light snow, and more on the way, by the smell of it. She was glad to be back. Even though that sense of dread that Byrne had spoken about had not gone, it had faded, and Sig was home in time for Midwinter’s Day. It was a holy day for the Order of the Bright Star, a day of remembrance, for it was on Midwinter’s Day that the Battle of Drassil had been fought, the Kadoshim and Ben-Elim unleashed upon the Banished Lands. The Kadoshim had been defeated, driven from the field, and Asroth sealed within his cage of molten stone. Corban the Bright Star had been central to those events, and it had been on that day that his dear friends, Gar and Brina, had fallen in the great battle. It was also the day when Corban had resolved to create the Order of the Bright Star, both as a legacy to Gar and Brina, and also to continue the fight against the Kadoshim. The festival was on the morrow, a day of sombre remembrance, and in the evening they would feast in the grey keep and drink to fallen comrades. It was important to Sig that they were remembered, honoured for their sacrifice. On the morrow they would gather before the Stone of Heroes, bow their heads and think of their fallen sword-brothers and sisters . . .

They were upon Dun Seren’s weapons-field: a huge expanse contained between the inner and outer walls of the fortress. Warriors were hard at combat in various sections of the field, training. Some were mounted upon horseback, giants upon bears, elsewhere a hundred or so formed up in the shield wall. The Order of the Bright Star used round shields in their wall, unlike the rectangular ones favoured by the White-Wings of Drassil. That was because, to become a warrior of the Bright Star, a novice had to master all of the disciplines, be able to fight in the shield wall, or upon horseback, or upon their feet all alone, and a rectangular shield was impractical upon a horse or in individual combat. A round shield was more adaptable across the disciplines, and so that was what they used.

Sig heard a distant shouted command and the front row of shields dropped as warriors hurled javelins skywards, the iron-tipped shafts arcing high, then thudding to the earth. Sig could almost see the imagined Kadoshim ripped from the sky, imagined the ruin of their fall, the shield wall marching forwards, short-swords stabbing down to finish any survivors as they trampled over the dead and injured.