“Many years,” Duncan finally called back. “I was a young man then. Still, it was a time I can never forget. I remember…the climb…the altitude…its people—a hard people. Brave warriors, fearless—but hard. They were reclusive. They were with us, but never quite with us.”

Seavig nodded.

“Nothing has changed,” he replied. “Now, they are more reclusive than ever. They were always separatist—now, after Tarnis’ betrayal, they are like a nation of their own.”

“Maybe it’s the mountain air,” joked Anvin, his raft coming up beside theirs. “Maybe they look down on all of us.”

“They don’t,” Seavig replied. “They just don’t have much interest in others.”

Duncan looked up and studied the white peaks, getting closer with each bend in the river.

“They hide up there,” Seavig replied, “from the Pandesian strongholds below. If they came down, they would be attacked. And the Pandesians don’t dare breach those heights—they know it would be folly. So the men of Kos fancy themselves free—but they are not free. They are trapped.”

Duncan studied the mountains, and he wasn’t so sure.

“The men of Kos whom I met feared nothing,” Duncan replied. “Certainly no Pandesians. I doubt they fear coming down.”

“Then why haven’t they descended since the invasion?” Seavig asked.

It was a mystery that Duncan had wondered at himself.

“Maybe they feel the old king does not deserve their respect,” Anvin offered. “Maybe they feel we are not worth coming down for after surrendering Escalon. The mountains are their home—to come down would be to fight our battles.”

“To come down would be to fight for Escalon, their land, too,” Seavig countered.

Duncan shrugged.

“I don’t know the answer,” Duncan called out. “But we shall find out.”

“And if they refuse to join us?” Seavig asked. “Then what? Climbing those peaks is no small risk.”

Duncan looked up and studied the steep ascent, and he wondered the same thing. He would be leading his men up a perilous path—what if it was all for naught?

“They will descend,” Duncan finally said. “They will join us. Because the men of Kos whom I know would not refuse an invitation to freedom.”

“Whose freedom?” Seavig asked. “Theirs or ours?”

Duncan pondered his words as they all fell back into silence, the rapids gaining speed, bringing them ever farther down the Thusius. It was a fine question, indeed. Climbing those peaks would indeed be a risk—and he prayed it would not all be for naught.

Duncan heard an unfamiliar noise and as he looked over at Seavig, wondering. He was surprised to find his friend studying the river, fear in his eyes for the first time.

“The swirls!” Seavig cried.