Page 247 of Salt Between the Wolves

A moment later the horse reached the tower, and the messenger barely waited for it to stop moving before dropping to the ground.

"My lord."

The words were directed toward Leander, and the man's face was pale—not frightened, but alarmed, a subtle yet important difference that Leander noticed immediately.

"What happened?"

The messenger glanced once toward Soren, then held out a sealed letter.

"The rider came from Ironfang."

Every muscle in Soren's body tightened.

Leander accepted the letter but did not open it, instead studying the seal as his expression changed instantly.

The seal belonged to Kael, not the council or a steward, which meant whoever had sent it considered speed more important than protocol.

Leander handed the letter to Soren without a word.

Soren broke the seal.

The message was short, very short.

He read it once, then again, and his expression gave away nothing, which alone was enough to make Leander uneasy.

"What is it?"

For several seconds Soren did not answer as the wind pulled at the edge of the parchment.

Finally he looked up.

"Frostvein is moving."

Silence settled over the tower, and Leander's jaw tightened.

"How many?"

"They don't know yet."

Soren folded the letter.

"Scouts report banners gathering beyond White Pass."

The sea crashed below, and neither man spoke because they both understood exactly what that meant—not a raid, not a border dispute, not an accident, but preparation, deliberate and visible, the kind intended to be seen.

Leander exhaled slowly.

"When?"

Soren looked back at the letter.

"The first reports arrived three days ago."

Another silence followed before Leander said, "You should go."

Soren was already reaching for his gloves, already somewhere else in his mind, calculating routes, distances, supplies, council meetings, patrol strength, and a dozen other things.

Leander watched him for a moment, then said quietly, "Ironfang needs its Alpha."