Page 269 of Salt Between the Wolves

Kael came to stand beside him without announcing himself, and for once Soren let the silence remain.

Across the pass, a horn sounded once from the Frostvein camp, a signal that was not an advance, at least not yet.

Kael watched the distant fires. "He could have attacked before we settled."

"Yes."

"He didn't."

"No."

Kael's jaw tightened. "So what is he waiting for?"

Soren did not answer immediately as snow drifted between the two camps, soft enough to seem harmless yet steady enough to bury tracks by morning.

"He wants me to move first."

Kael looked at him. "Will you?"

"No."

"Then we stand here until someone freezes?"

"If necessary."

Kael gave him a sharp look, but Soren kept his attention on the valley.

The position was good, not perfect but good enough.

If Vargan advanced through the lower pass, Ironfang could break the first line before Frostvein reached the rise; if he tried to flank through the eastern ridge, the scouts would see the movement before dawn; and if he waited too long, the weather would punish both sides.

Vargan knew all of that, which meant this was not only about ground, and it never had been.

Kael seemed to follow the same thought, because his next words came quieter.

"You think he believes she's with us."

"I think he doesn't know what to believe."

"That makes him dangerous."

"It always did."

For a while, neither of them spoke, until Kael said, "He said if she comes willingly, he'll hear it from her."

Soren's gaze remained fixed on the opposite fires. "Yes."

"Do you believe him?"

The answer should have been simple, but it was not.

Vargan Frostvein had shaped obedience into virtue and called it protection, giving Eira choices only when he already trusted the outcome. He understood duty more easily than love, and control more easily than fear.

And yet Soren had seen something in him that day—not surrender or mercy, but a fracture.

"He will hear her," Soren said at last.

Kael frowned. "That isn't what I asked."