Their breath came out in puffs of mist. The night was bitingly cold and getting colder. Her eyes shot to the hollow crown.

Standing opposite Fallon was Duke Severn, wearing his black armor with the boar badge tunic, still bloodstained from the battle at Blackpool. He glared down at the host.

The king smiled when he saw Trynne. “We’re outnumbered,” he said to her. “But do not the rocks hold back the sea? I’ve ordered the maidens to occupy the heights along the inner wall. Fallon’s knights hold this one. Do you approve?”

Trynne nodded, gazing down at the huge host, her throat stopped with fear.

Fallon approached. “The last Espion to make it inside said they found a treasure ship unloading in Blackpool two days ago. Another host of soldiers is marching to Dundrennan. They are converging here with suitable arms. Grand Duke Elwis crossed over from Brugia with an army of ten thousand and started attacking the supply lines. Some of this new army has diverted south to engage his. The war is happening in multiple places and across multiple battlefields. But this one is the largest.”

“Thank you for the news,” Drew said grimly. “We are hopelessly outnumbered. But one soldier with courage has always been worth a hundred men fighting for the wrong reason.”

“My lord, look!” Severn said, pointing off the wall.

They all turned at once. The army before them was splitting in half. A black road appeared down the middle. Then Trynne saw Gahalatine striding through the ranks with Rucrius by his side and two other figures following behind them. She sensed the aura of their magic as they approached. It had become familiar to her.

Just a few days before, she had faced Gahalatine at the zenana in Chandigarl. Now he was approaching Dundrennan as a man of war.

The knights on the wall fell silent as he approached.

Drew’s face twisted with animosity as he gazed down at the emperor. He was still looking at the scene below when flakes of snow began to drift down from the cloudless sky. There was an audible gasp as the soldiers noticed the flurry. A grim smile appeared on Severn’s mouth. He knew, better than anyone, the special qualities of the hollow crown.

Gahalatine halted when he and his Wizr companions reached the front of the army. He held a sword in one hand and a blazing torch in the other. The wind was blowing hard still, thick with coin-sized flakes of snow that were quickly sticking to the ground.

The emperor of the Forbidden Court turned to Rucrius.

“Bevah-kah-sha!” Rucrius pronounced in words that trumpeted like thunder.

The wind instantly calmed. Silence fell across the wall, broken only by the hissing of the snowflakes as they hit the fires from the braziers and torches.