“And you’re northwealder scum,” she said, “and a witch into the bargain. I won’t beg clemency from the likes of you.”

Viktor nodded, and straightened. “Captain?”

“Sah?”

“Escort Captain Halvor from the camp. We’ll keep her weapons to prevent any further . . . rash behaviour on the way.”

“Sorry sir, sounded like you said . . .”

“Then you heard me right. See to it. At once.”

Revekah regarded him through half-lidded eyes. “Why?”

“Because I kill only if called to.” He offered his hand. “There will be death enough in the days to come. I intend to fight for your home, and I am woefully outmatched. You can help, or you can live with the after-math. But choose swiftly.”

She struck his hand aside and clambered stiffly to her feet.

Viktor nodded. He understood Halvor’s enmity, even if he could not respect it. But he didn’t have to reciprocate. He only hoped he’d not regret his mercy.

“Captain Kurkas? Kindly see her out. And captain? I’d deem it a favour if nothing you witnessed here today became the stuff of campfire rumour.”

Kurkas threw a salute. “Sah! What’s one more secret between friends?”

Josiri ignored the first two cheers. By the time the easterly wind carried a third to Branghall’s walls, curiosity overcame reluctance. He took to the balcony.

And on the balcony of the reeve’s manor, one hand braced against the wooden handrail, and the other bunched in a fist and raised aloft, stood Calenne.

Calenne?

Josiri barely recognised her at first. Never in his life had he seen her in armour. It suited her. But how could it not? Their mother had never looked more herself than when arrayed for battle.

“You all know what has befallen.” Calenne’s windblown words crackled at the edges as words so often did with force behind them. “The Hadari have crossed the mountains. Our borderlands are burning.”

There were no cheers now, nor any murmurs that reached Josiri’s ears. They listened to her more raptly than they ever had him. Then again, what had he ever fed them, save platitudes? He’d tried to serve two masters, and in the striving disappointed both.

“My mother, Katya Trelan, was the Phoenix,” shouted Calenne. “She died fighting those who sought to steal our lands. Now we are invaded once more. And it is in the nature of phoenixes to be reborn!”

A murmur broke out among the crowd. Josiri’s knuckles whitened on the balcony balustrade.

“For the sake of your families, you followed my mother.” All of a sudden, Calenne’s gaze lifted from the marketplace. Josiri knew with certainty that she stared at him as unblinkingly as he at her. “For their sake again, I ask you to follow me!”