“They are ready,” said Brother Chernov, brimming with pride, his gray-flecked beard nearly bristling with excitement.

Ready to die, I suppose, Aleksander thought, but let none of his frustration show.

He clapped Chernov on the back. “Onward to revelation.”

The big man trailed him as they walked the camp together. Aleksander had no way of knowing where the Fjerdans would attack, so he’d brought his followers—and they were his now—to the area north of Adena to await word of battle. But they’d insisted on journeying west into the Fold to spend their nights in communion with the Starless One. I’m right here, he’d wanted to shout. He had no choice but to oblige them in a pilgrimage to the holy sands.

He didn’t care for it. It was, in part, a question of practicality. There was no shelter on the Fold, no plants to forage, no game to hunt. All they had to eat was the hardtack and dried meat they’d brought with them, a few barrels of flat beer, and the water in their canteens. They slept on hard ground with no trees or rocks to take the brunt of the winter wind. And yet, his companions were jubilant. They held services every sundown, and during the days, they alternated praying and training. They were going into a battle, after all, and though Aleksander did not intend for them to do much fighting, they needed to look like they knew what they were doing.

“Where did you come by such military knowledge, Yuri?” Brother Azarov asked as Aleksander put the pilgrims through another round of sprints. He’d been a soldier himself before he’d deserted to join the ranks of the Starless.

“During my time with the Priestguard,” he lied.

Yuri had never so much as held a gun. He’d been happiest confined to the library.

“We need more weapons,” he said.

Chernov’s furry brows rose. “Why? When the Starless One—”

“We don’t dictate the arrival of the Starless Saint. We have to be ready to defend ourselves.”

Are they all so eager to die? he wondered.

They believe, came Yuri’s reply. They believe in you.

All for the best, but war was war.

“There’s a cache of weapons at the old fort east of Ryevost,” Brother Azarov said. “I was stationed there for a time.”

“You think they’ll still be there?” Aleksander asked.

“If the Starless One watches over us, they will be.”

Aleksander had to fight not to roll his eyes. If he remembered correctly, the old fort had been all but decommissioned and used as an ammunitions stockpile.

“We’ll go there tonight,” he said.

“After services.”

“Of course.”

After nightfall, they hitched a wagon to two of their horses and traveled to the old fort. Getting past the guards was easy enough. The only challenge had been summoning shadow to cloak their movements without revealing his power to Brother Azarov.