Isabel looked at Tolly. ‘We all know what he is capable of. My family is only safe there for as long as he has the upper hand.’ She sighed. ‘What is the best way to proceed?’

Frustrated by the conversation, Ita stepped away.

‘I think arriving with a large group would be a mistake. I could escort you there to speak to him.’

‘I’m obviously coming with you,’ Ita called to them.

Isabel shook her head. ‘Absolutely not. You are another pawn he can use in his game. I cannot be worried about you too.’

Rabbit glanced over at the paddock where the horses were grazing. ‘I’ll saddle your gelding.’ Then he headed off in that direction.

Ita emitted a frustrated groan, which made Margery fly off.

‘I am sorry to drag you into this mess,’ Isabel said to Tolly. ‘There are probably a million more important things you should be doing right now.’

‘I’m more worried about my brother hanging me from the closest tree when he finds out I took you straight to Hodge.’

Isabel dropped her gaze, palms heating. ‘Let me pack a few things. I will be with you shortly.’

Blackmane was seated in the mess hall, having just finished his second bowl of stew. The harder he trained, the hungrier he was. Thankfully, the famine was far enough behind them that rationing was finally a thing of the past. Defenders were now permitted to eat whatever they needed to in order to perform at their peak. He was considering going back for his third bowl when Tatum strode into the room and looked around. Spotting Blackmane, he walked over and sank down onto the bench seat beside him.

‘I have a letter for you.’ He wrestled it out of his pocket and slapped it down on the table next to Blackmane’s bowl. ‘I hope you appreciate me not reading it on the way here. Very tempting when there’s no seal.’

‘The fact that you want to be acknowledged for that says so much about you.’ Blackmane had received a few letters from Tolly over the past few months, but they were always sealed, and this was not his handwriting. His eyes went straight to the signature at the bottom.

‘Who’s it from?’ Tatum asked.

It took Blackmane a moment to reply. ‘Ita.’

Tatum’s brow creased. ‘I didn’t realise the two of you were still in contact.’

‘We’re not.’ Blackmane read quickly, the parchment creasing beneath his grip. ‘Bastard.’

Tatum appeared taken aback. ‘I know she can be a tad bossy, but—’

Blackmane rose abruptly, shoving the note into his pocket as he stepped away from the table.

‘Where are you going?’ Tatum asked.

‘To see the warden.’

Tatum winced. ‘This can’t be good.’

Blackmane fled the mess hall, ignoring the questions that followed him out. He went straight to the warden’s quarters, knocking and then entering without waiting for a reply.