He was not ready.

He had to be.

After his long climb through the keep, Matt was sweating. He wiped moisture from his brow. With his back straight and his chin up, he replied, “The signals, Majesty. The relay of signals. From the Realm’s Edge.”

Those signals were messages tied to the shafts of arrows and shot from man to man over the hills. At their best, they could deliver reports faster than any rider.

“Yes?” prompted the King.

Distinctly, the First Captain answered, “Master Ungabwey’s caravan has been destroyed. Only the rearguard survived.”

“What?” demanded Bifalt. “The whole caravan?”

This was worse than fearsome. It might prove ruinous.

“Majesty.” Matt nodded. “The reports are fragments sent in haste. More signals will come. The rearguard will return as swiftly as possible. I do not expect the full tale before midnight. It may not reach us until the morrow. But what I know is this.

“Master Ungabwey found a narrows in the second pass.” Unnecessarily, he explained, “The first, the eastern passage, he had already sealed. The second is the middle of the three. A league among the mountains, he came to a place where one great avalanche would close the way completely.”

Unable to contain himself, Prince Jaspid asked, “Was he opposed, Matt?”

The First Captain answered without looking away from King Bifalt. “Not in the first pass, Highness. I know this from earlier reports. In the second, our men encountered scouts like the raiders who harried us last autumn. But those men fled when a few of them were shot. There was no concerted opposition.”

“Then how?” insisted the King. “How was the caravan destroyed?”

Abruptly, Prince Lome went to the door, opened it partway. Through the gap, he told the servant outside to bring wine.

The other men ignored him.

The First Captain shrugged uncomfortably. “Master Ungabwey planned his avalanche, Majesty. His engines brought it down. The second pass has been closed as well. That much I know. But for the rest, I do not have details.

“There must have been some unforeseen crack in the mountainsides. Or some miscalculation by the mechanicians with their engines. The avalanche did not come down where it was intended. It fell on the caravan.”

King Bifalt stared. The implications shook him. There were too many. And too many dead. The wagon-train included a large company of servants, mechanicians, and riflemen. It also included the last priests of the Church.

Half choking, he asked, “No one escaped? No one at all?”

He felt an oblique certainty. That must be why—

For an instant, he did not know why what. Then he did.

That was why Set Ungabwey had left his daughters in the library. He had not expected to live.

“I do not know, Majesty,” sighed Matt. “The signals say only that the rearguard survived. I expect some of our men to search the wreckage. There will be more signals. And our men will return. They—”