“If you aim for Kos,” Seavig replied, “you must reach the Lake of Ire first. Skirt its shores, and it will lead to The Thusius. It is the river you need. It is the only way. Go by land and you’ll be trapped in a war.”

He turned and looked meaningfully at Duncan.

“I know the way,” Seavig said. “Let me show you.”

Duncan smiled back, and clasped his friend’s arm.

“I and my men will leave now,” Duncan replied, satisfied with the plan. “You can join us when you are rested.”

Seavig laughed.

“Rested?” he replied, smiling wider. “I fought all night—I am more rested than I’ve ever been.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

As dawn broke over the fort of Volis, Aidan frantically paced its ramparts, searching the horizon for any sign of his father, or Kyra, or his brothers—or any of the men. He had been up most of the night in a state of unease, tormented by nightmares of his sister falling into a pit, of his father being burned alive in a harbor. He had paced these ramparts under the night’s sky, the stars aglow, and had not stopped searching the countryside for them since, anxious for their return.

Deep down, Aidan suspected they were not returning to Volis any time soon—if at all. Kyra was heading west across Escalon, through a treacherous terrain, and his father, brothers, and their men were heading somewhere south, into battle and likely death. Aidan burned inside. He wanted more than anything to be with them, especially at this time of war. He knew what was happening was once in a lifetime, and he could not stand the thought, however young he was, of sitting on the sidelines. Aidan knew he was smaller than them all, still young, weak, and untrained; yet he still felt there was much he could do. He might not be able to throw a spear, or fire an arrow, as well as the others, but he was known for his smarts, his resourcefulness, for being able to look a situation differently than everyone else, and he felt he could help his father somehow.

No matter what, he knew for certain he didn’t want to be sitting here, in the nearly empty fort of Volis, far from the action, safe behind these gates with the women and the children and the geese running around the courtyard, as if nothing were happening out there in the world. He was just waiting out his days, with nothing to do but anticipate news of arriving death. He would rather die than live this way.