There were the sounds of horses neighing and dying—so many horses. Gaborn did not understand why the horses screamed until he realized that Raj Ahten’s horses were still tethered on the far hill. His father’s troops were slaughtering the Wolf Lord’s mounts.

Gaborn and Rowan stopped on the cobbled street, a hundred yards beneath the King’s Keep, and stood gazing over the fog-covered greens, trying to see the battle. Gaborn was suddenly aware of several men rushing past.

He turned just as a burly soldier pushed him aside, shouting, “Out of the way!”

And there, racing past in black scale mail, the white owl’s wings sweeping wide from his black helm, came Raj Ahten with his personal guard, counselors, and Days. Three weary flameweavers ran at his side.

Gaborn almost reached to draw his sword, to strike at the Wolf Lord, but knew it would be foolish. He turned away, the blood in his face rising in anger.

Raj Ahten ran past Gaborn at arm’s length, issuing orders to his guard in Indhopalese: “Ready your men and horses! You flameweavers—to the walls. Send lines of fire from here to the woods, so that we can see into that fog. I’ll lead the counterattack! Damn that insolent Orden!”

“It is an unnatural fog,” his flameweaver worried. “A water wizard’s fog.”

“Rahjim, don’t tell me you fear some young water wizard who hasn’t even grown his gills yet?” Raj Ahten scoffed. “I expect more from you. This fog will work against Orden as much as work for him.”

The wizard shook his head woefully. “Some Power fights us! I feel it!”

Gaborn could have reached out and touched the Wolf Lord, could have lopped off his head, yet had done nothing.

The enormity of the lost opportunity weighed on Gaborn. As Raj Ahten and his troops hurried down Market Street, Gaborn fumbled to draw his sword.

“No!” Rowan hissed, grabbing his wrist, pressing the blade back into its sheath.

She was right. Yet as he surveyed the street, he saw that it was a perfect spot for an ambush. The shops would not normally open for another two hours—and this day was far from normal. Perhaps they would not open at all.

Market Street twisted southwest, so that even though one was not far from the King’s Keep and the inner tier of defenses for the city, one could not be seen from the Keep’s walls above, nor from the outer walls below. The three-story stone buildings along Market Street blocked such a view.

Gaborn halted. The morning shadows were still deep, the street deserted. Gaborn wondered if he should wait for Raj Ahten to return up the cobbled road.

He glanced up toward the King’s Keep.