Drem wrapped the strips of leather back up and placed them in his pouch, then methodically went over his kit. A skin of water across one shoulder. A bag slung across his back, full with essential gear: tinder and kindling, flint and striking iron, fish-hooks and animal gut for the stitching of wounds, a roll of linen for bandages. Medicinal herbs – honey, sorrel, yarrow, comfrey, skullcap, seed of the poppy. Oats for porridge and strips of salted pork. A slab of cheese. And a pot. He wore layers of clothes, linen, wool, leather and fur, his bone-handled seax and his da’s axe at his belt, as well as his sword, and a thick-shafted spear in his fist.

And courage in my heart, and vengeance on my mind.

Drem breathed deep, his back straightening, and then he stepped off the path and into the splintered gloom made by his father’s killers.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: RIV

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

RIV

Riv approached the walls of Drassil. They rose tall and forbidding before her.

They had marched back from Oriens as fast as the White-Wings could travel. Riv had rushed to Kol, Aphra and the other captains in that grisly glade deep within Forn Forest, telling them of her suspicion that they had been lured from Drassil for a reason. At first Aphra would not entertain the thought, instead had ordered her to leave, to get back into rank before she was punished for more insubordination and rule-breaking. But Kol had called her back and questioned her rationale behind the suspicion. Meanwhile scouts were sent out into the forest, reconnoitring deeper to search for any signs of recent life or the vaguest hint of a trap.

They had come back shaking their heads.

Kol had ordered horns blown and an organized retreat. Then they had turned around and marched as fast as they could physically manage for Drassil. Kol had led many of the Ben-Elim ahead, and he had returned to their column on the east road two days ago, announcing the dark news that Kadoshim had indeed raided Drassil, a bold attempt to set Asroth free from his gaol of iron. Many had fallen, he reported, but the Kadoshim’s plan had been thwarted.

Riv’s first thought had been for her mam, and for Bleda. She had asked Kol, who said that they were both alive, easing her mind.

After that the horror of Kol’s news had seeped into her. Just the brazenness of the attack had shocked Riv deeply.

A hundred and thirty-seven years since the Battle of Drassil, and never once have the Kadoshim attacked this fortress, whether in raid or assault.

Why now?

And how would they free Asroth from a cage forged from starstone? I thought that was impossible.

She wanted to ask Aphra, to talk about the possibilities, but her sister had been consistently tight-mouthed and aloof with her since Oriens.

What is wrong with her? She has never been so unkind and bad-tempered before.