What would the men of Raj Hazara want with his sister? Was it something to do with the lore she had helped them to rediscover? Did they simply want someone with her skill to help them further? How worried should he be?

Miro tried to tell himself the Hazarans just wanted more of Ella's help, but he knew so little about them. Jehral and his friend Hermen Tosch had managed to capture an elementalist and a skilled enchantress. Whatever else, they were dangerous men.

Miro paced as he wondered what to do. He had vowed to never again let those close to him fall into the hands of his enemies.

Like a dog scratching at a wound, Miro's mind returned to the battle at the Bridge of Sutanesta, and the last time he had seen Amber. He had nightmares about it, dreams where he was cutting through the press of the enemy, slashing through warrior after warrior, seeing her auburn hair and green dress vanishing into the endless ranks of the Black Army. No matter what he did, he couldn't get closer to her. He screamed her name, but she never turned around. And she was always going in the wrong direction, away from safety.

Away from him.

He had lost so many friends in the war. Blademaster Rogan, the man who taught Miro to fight. Tuok, the soldier who taught Miro the ways of the world. Ronell Kendra, the bladesinger who finally conquered his fears, fighting to his last breath. Varana, the gentle Halrana woman who only wanted to be loved, and who Miro had left behind in the doomed town of Sallat.

Miro had promised himself that the next time he saw Primate Melovar Aspen, it would be at his enemy's demise. He had promised himself that never again would he leave someone he loved to face his enemies without his protection.

He stopped his pacing. "I'm going after them."

"Miro, let me go," Bartolo said.

"You are not going," Rorelan said. "Miro, you know you have responsibilities here, and," he continued, "we have, what, four bladesingers left besides the two of you? Bladesinger Bartolo, I forbid you to go also. You will be needed for the war effort."

"High Lord, it was my fault!" Bartolo bristled. Bladesingers were considered free agents, generally able to make their own decisions about how best to serve Altura.

Marshal Beorn rushed into the room, stopping when he saw Miro. "Lord Marshal, we're under attack. A force is testing our defences in the woodland to the east, near the Halrana border. We need you."

Miro turned to High Lord Rorelan, and then to Bartolo. He threw up his hands. "Bartolo, go after them. Look after my sister."

"Lord Marshal, I forbid…" Rorelan began.

Miro fixed Rorelan with a stare. The Alturan High Lord met his gaze, and then faltered. "He's going," Miro said.