Anik wasn't the only source of apprehension. The size of the approaching army was no secret. The men were following a stranger into a fight they could easily lose, and Ren wouldn't have blamed them if they had decided to back out. But they were all still here, preparing for battle with clenched jaws and hard eyes. They knew as well as anyone what was at stake. The news of Halvard in the heart of their country had sent ripples of shock through Stag's Run. Protecting the fort was now more important than ever. Ren had to give it to them: however slack they had become, they were prepared to fight today. Not one of them had spoken a single word of doubt. No one had questioned his authority. Ren couldn't help but think that perhaps they should. He would have, if he'd been in their shoes.

The last of the soldiers left the armoury to take up position along the ramparts and in the courtyard, leaving Anik and Ren alone for a few, quiet moments. The silence before the storm.

Ren sat down on the nearest bench and stretched his legs. “I've known Niklas since we were children,” he said. The leather greaves were unfamiliar and tight around his calves. “I was so sure I could trust him. I've never had a reason not to. He's always had my back.”

“Rolling over for the Skarlan king,” Anik said, spitting on the ground and tugging on the straps of his leather breastplate. It was the only piece of protection he wore, a worn thing with faded engraved antlers along the top, sliced through by old cuts and scrapes. His sword was strapped to his hip, although they had no shields to spare. “It's disgusting. You don't betray the people you call your family.”

It was almost strange not to be the focus of Anik's insults for once, although Ren was sure he still had plenty to spare. Maybe Anik could sense his unease. No matter the reason, Ren appreciated it.

“The Skarlans are his family,” Ren said quietly. “He was born there.”

Anik shook his head. “Blood doesn't equal family.”

Taking a deep breath, Ren found that his hand shook as he closed it around the hilt of his brother's sword, a comforting presence at his side. “Do you think we'll be okay?”

“I don't know,” Anik said, taking a seat on the bench beside him. “Speculation is useless. All we can do is give it our best shot.”

“I'm terrible in a fight. You know that.”

Anik smiled a little. “Yeah, you are. Good thing you're also a prince and won't be on the front lines where all the real bad shit goes down. Just remember to keep your guard up and watch for arrows and I'm sure you'll be fine.”

Ren frowned. “Anik, I'm serious.”