“Not very,” Ren said, leaning over the battlements to look down at the water, which was covered in a thin layer of ice. “You can probably stand upright in it. It's wide, though.”

“Men walk slower in water. Archers here and here can pick them off as they wade through,” Anik said, pointing to spots along the ramparts on either side of the large gate.

“We need something better,” Ren argued.

“Then use that smart little head of yours. It's your fort, isn't it?” Anik said.

“One more thing,” Ren said, and withdrew the folded note from inside his coat, handing it to Anik. “A messenger delivered this note to me yesterday. He wouldn't say who sent him, but the warning has proven correct. Would you happen to know any Lowlander with a fox sigil?”

Anik unfolded the note, glancing over the text before his eyes settled on the fox in the corner. Frowning, he shook his head. “We don't use sigils,” he said, handing the note back to Ren.

They walked slowly along the ramparts, breaths misting in the early morning air. Ren glanced at Anik, who had returned to studying their surroundings, and he found that it felt good to have Anik at his side again. Despite his sour mood and sharp remarks, Anik had been a reliable companion since their escape from Aleria. Who would have thought Ren would ever feel fond towards a Lowlander?

“Why do Frayne and Skarlan hate each other so much?”

“Hmm?” Ren turned to look at Anik, not expecting the question. “Our countries have been at war for hundreds of years.”

Anik looked at him, brow furrowing. He tugged his coat closer around himself against the subtle, chilling breeze. “But how did it start?”

“Well,” Ren said, “there's the story about the race to Stag's Run. I'm not sure if it's true, but it's as good an explanation as any.”

“What's the story?”

Ren raised his eyebrows, meeting Anik's gaze. “You don't know it? Well, I suppose you wouldn't,” he said. Old Skarlan-Fraynean history probably didn't much interest Lowlanders.

Coming to the side of the fort that faced the northward passage, Ren stopped, bracing his arms against the battlements. Next to him, Anik hopped up to sit on the frost-covered stone, one leg on either side, seemingly unfazed by the twenty-meter drop to the ground below.