Chapters (95)
- Cover
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Map
- Dramatis Personae
- Fifteen Years Ago
- Endas, 25th day of Wellmarch
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Maladas, 26th day of Wellmarch
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Lumendas, 1st day of Radiance
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Astridas, 2nd day of Radiance
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Jeradas, 3rd day of Radiance
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Endas, 4th day of Radiance
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Maladas, 5th day of Radiance
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Tzadas, 6th day of Radiance
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Lunandas, 7th day of Radiance
- Forty-Four
- Jeradas, 10th day of Radiance
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Endas, 11th day of Radiance
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Maladas, 12th day of Radiance
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Tzadas, 13th day of Radiance
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Lunandas, 14th day of Radiance
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Lumendas, 15th day of Radiance
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Tzadas, 20th day of Radiance
- Sixty-Nine
- Acknowledgements
- Discover More
- Extras
- Meet the Author
On another day, Viktor might have felt sympathy for the woman, or even disgust at his own unwitting actions. But not this day.
Lost in grief, the kernclaw never saw the blow that struck her clean into unconsciousness.
Sixty-Two
Sixty-Two
Outriders preceded the convoy, shields slung and banners furled. A column of Immortals marched at the heart, a blaze of gold around a wagon draped in green silk – the wagon in which Melanna’s father rested as his wounded body healed.
She should have been with him. It was a daughter’s duty to be close at hand if the worst befell. But her thoughts lay not to the east, where her father’s procession squeaked and rumbled along the uneven road, but to the west whence a cold wind plucked at her hair.
“It’s time, Ashanal,” said Sera. “The lunassera march with the next convoy. If you do not leave with your father, you should do so with us.”
Melanna stared away into the west. The horizon lay hidden beneath brooding cloud, as if the sky itself wrestled with matters weighty beyond her comprehension. The darkness of the dream lay hidden within, if it existed at all.
“What if I choose to stay?” she asked.
“That would be unwise.” Sera’s careful reply gave a hint to the expression hidden beneath her mask. “The eastern road lies thick with opportunity.”
“The goddess commands . . .” Melanna cut herself off. If she’d learned only one thing since coming to the Southshires, it was not to overplay Ashana’s intent. “The goddess implied I should stay. The Dark has arisen in the west. It wears the shape and intent of the Sceadotha.”
The lunassera, normally so fluid and graceful in motion, went still as a rabbit in a wolf’s gaze. “Are you certain you understood her? You will be empress one day. Is it wise to risk your life on girlish fancy?”
It wasn’t so much the words that brought Melanna up short, as the tone. The same tone she’d faced all her life, when she’d pleaded for lessons in archery and swordplay. When she’d insisted on riding astride a steed, rather than side-saddle. The tone that spoke to arguments exhausted, and her own patience close behind.
She set her back to Sera, determined that the other woman not see her anger. In the courtyard below, a handful of Immortals, stripped to the waist, laboured to make a cairn of abandoned weapons. Seen from above, as she viewed it now, steel and spear-staff blossomed outward like the petals of a flower. A traditional offering to the victor, granted in defeat. That it was raised beside the defenders’ graves – dug just as willingly by Melanna’s countrymen – only added to the poignancy.