Trynne smiled a little as she thought of her aging herald scaling the steps. Fallon climbed up the ladder and pushed open the trapdoor. A brisk, knifelike wind came rushing down, cutting through her tunic instantly as she started to climb up the ladder. He emerged first and then reached down to help her up.

The tower was the highest point of the castle and the view nearly made her dizzy as she stared down at the bailey. The sky was thick with clouds, though they parted to show a sliver of brilliant moon that shed its light across the woolen veil. The noise of the waterfall was much louder up there, a constant murmur against the howl of the wind. Fallon quickly removed his cloak and draped it over her shoulders. It was warm from his body heat and the exertion of the climb. The gesture sent a little shiver through her, and she smiled up at him.

There were four soldiers already up there, each one looking in a different direction, their eyes piercing the gloom. There were no torches, but each man had a hooded lantern. The bailey yard below was still teeming with people.

“What’s the latest news, Captain?” Fallon asked, half shouting to be heard above the screech of the wind.

“My lord,” the captain shouted back, putting his arm out and gripping Fallon’s shoulder. “The forefront of Gahalatine’s army has reached Doublebrook. They’ll be at the walls before dawn by our reckoning.”

“That soon?” Fallon answered, shaking his head in amazement.

“Aye, my lord. His army never stops, not fully. A part of it is always in motion. There are now two supply lines. One from Blackpool. Another from Kennit, one on either side of us. They seemed to know the king would be here.”

“Seems so,” Fallon responded gravely. “I’d like a moment with this young lady, if you wouldn’t mind, Captain.”

The captain, a large man with a full beard and whiskers, grinned a toothy grin and motioned for the others to join him. “Let’s wait out of the wind for a bit, chaps. What do you say?”

“Aye, Captain.” There was no disagreement, and soon Trynne and Fallon were alone at the top of the tower. The howling wind whipped her hair across her face.

“I’m sorry to have brought you up this high, but it is one of the few places I can be assured a private conversation,” he said with a chuckle. He stood in front of her, leaning back slightly against the wall of the parapet. She was afraid the wind was going to suddenly shove him over the edge, but she was close enough to grab his sword belt if that happened. She gazed up at him, feeling a surge of warmth for him when she noticed how his unruly hair was being ruffled by the wind.

“I owe you some answers,” he said, folding his arms.