From beneath the thin mattress Emi gathered a knife I’d not realized was there and secured it inside her boot. “When a few more winters passed, I realized I no longer had a place in Dravenmoor. Roark was already established in Stonegate, and saw to it I was brought behind the walls. Is that enough of an explanation? We best be off soon.”

Emi slipped around me, clearly finished with her tale.

“I don’t remember the raids. I don’t remember my mother and father.” The admission spilled over my lips before I could think better of it. “Only in my deepest nightmares do I hear the screams and smell the blood. Someone took me away—I can almost hear his voice—but I don’t know who it was.”

One corner of Emi’s full mouth curved when she looked over her shoulder. “Seems we all have broken paths that have led us here. What if this is exactly where the Norns intended for you to be, Melder?”

I frowned. If the Norns kept me alive all so my fate would place me in captivity within Stonegate, I rather hated them.

“So,” I pressed once we stepped into the morning light, “what brought the Sentry to Stonegate?”

“That is his tale to tell. You’re quite nosy when you start speaking.”

I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth to muffle a soft chuckle. “I’ve seen little of the world; naturally, questions will arise. What was the reason you finally left Dravenmoor?”

When Emi faced me, her lips curled in a sort of snarl. “I had to flee.”

“Had to? Didn’t you say you were young when you arrived at Stonegate?”

“Only fourteen.”

“They drove you out?”

“I ran before they could.”

“What happened?”

Emi’s eyes flashed with a touch of malice. “I tried to cut off my father’s head.”

With a wink, more condescending than kind, Emi slipped past me and entered the camp.

The bustle of Stav Guard was alive with curses and bawdy talk. Water splashed over the sound of palms slapping at bare skin as the guard tidied themselves for the king’s court. Boots stomped, and spitting grease hissed and crackled over the snap of flames.

“Nightlark!” A guard, bare-chested and staggering near the fire, waved at Emi. “I signed up to watch your back near the creek should you wish to bathe. I’d even watch your front if you’d like.”

Some of his nearby Stav brothers chuckled.

Emi didn’t flinch. She turned to the guard, a smirk on her lips. “Ah, Henrik, I’m not interested in helping you practice.”

The Stav grunted, palming himself over his trousers. “Trust me, I’ve no need for practice with this sword.”

I fought the urge to groan. He reminded me of the aggravating stable hands at House Jakobson, always so impressed with what they had between their legs.