Duncan shook his head, wondering at the stuff these men of Kos were made of.

“And you,” Bramthos said. “Last I saw you, you were leaping off a horse into the arms of three soldiers hoping to kill you.”

Now Duncan beamed.

“They should have hoped harder,” Duncan replied.

Bramthos grinned.

“Looks like we came to save you just in time,” he said, examining Duncan’s wounds.

Duncan grinned back.

“We had them just where we wanted them.”

After a long, shocked pause, Bramthos grinned wide, then stepped in and embraced Duncan. Duncan embraced him back, lost in this bear-of-a-man’s hug.

“Duncan,” the man said.

“Bramthos,” Duncan replied.

“Ironic,” Duncan continued, as he stepped back and examined his old friend. It felt good to see him again, to be in the company of such great warriors. “I came here to save you, and you ended up saving us.”

Bramthos’s grin widened.

“And who ever said we needed saving?” Bramthos replied.

Duncan grinned, seeing that his friend meant every word, and knowing it was true. These warriors of Kos needed no saving. They would fight anyone to the death and think nothing of it.

Bramthos clasped Duncan’s shoulder, turned and began leading him and his men across the broad plateau. The hundreds of soldiers of Kos, gathered around, parted ways for them, all of them staring as they passed, strong, somber men, bedecked in armor and furs, wielding halberds, hammers, axes, and spears.

Duncan found himself being led through a land of stone and ice, snow-covered peaks all around them, the wind whipping with a vengeance. In the distance he could see the outline of a city amidst the fast-moving clouds, a barren city atop the world. Duncan breathed easy, realizing they had really made it, had finally reached, against all odds, the brutal and unforgiving home to the people of Kos. He sensed that Bramthos was bringing him to their leader, Bramthos, and as they neared the city, Duncan knew that the meeting he was about to have, up here, high in the sky, would change the fate of Escalon forever.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Kyra rode on the back of Andor, charging up and down the hills of Ur, riding into the scarlet sunset, her heart slamming with anticipation. She had been riding for hours, farther out into the peninsula, the ocean crashing on both sides of her as the land became increasingly barren. Now, finally, she was so close. Now, after her journey across Escalon, after all she had been through, she could see before her the object of her dreams. A tower she only dreamed existed.