For the first time, Berin's eyes seemed to light up. “That could work, but you'll need to be quick about it. I heard from the guards last night that Halvard is planning to send a force to Stag's Run to secure it. If he doesn't already know the queen's brother rules there, he'll find out soon.”

“What's so special about Stag's Run?” Anik asked, making himself known for the first time since Niklas and Berin had arrived. He hopped off the window sill and came towards them, crossing his arms over his chest. Niklas glared at him.

“Stag's Run is a narrow passage that leads to the North. Haven't you heard of it?” Ren asked.

“The North?” Anik said. “That huge no-man's land covered in ice and snow?”

“It's full of resources,” Ren explained. “Timber, stone, minerals in the earth, wildlife. The fortress at Stag's Run guards the only entrance. It's deep in Fraynean territory, but Halvard has always been eager to gain access to it.”

“And imagine what he could do with it,” Berin said. “Skarlan to the west, Frayne to the east, and an unlimited supply of resources to the north.”

“Now that's terrifying.” Niklas shivered.

“We'll just have to get there before he does,” Ren said, determination fuelling his decision. They had a goal. Everything wasn't hopeless, not yet.

Standing, Berin crossed over to the window, looking left and right down the road. “Travel with caution,” he said. “King Halvard will no doubt spread word of your guilt and there'll be people out looking for you. Ride to Isleya and stock up there first.”

“I'll be careful,” Ren said, swallowing hard. He knew Niklas and Berin couldn't come with him. He'd be making this journey with no friends at his back. Berin had a wife and daughter in Aleria and he couldn't leave them. Niklas knew the castle well, so he'd be of more use there, watching over Thais, than trailing around after Ren. Ren knew all of this. Still, he couldn't help the dark pit of dread that spread in his stomach.

Stepping back towards them, Berin pulled the flap of his long coat aside. Two swords were strapped to Berin's hip. Ren was about to ask what they were for when Berin loosened one of the sheaths and handed it to him.

Ren recognized it immediately, and the sight of it sent a jolt of pain through him. With trembling hands, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around the leather-wrapped hilt, the curving antlers protecting his hand as he drew the sword from its sheath. It was perfectly balanced, with hardly a graze in the steel. Hellic had never gotten the chance to use it in a real battle. It was as sharp as the day it had been forged, the golden stag's head pommel glowing in the candlelight.