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What?

“What Gammal saw all those seasons ago. Lyra destroyed our lands.”

I bristled but paused when Emi shoved my shoulder.

“Let me finish.” She shook her head. “She destroyed the lands because it will all be different now. Our kingdoms have danced along these lines of enemies and weak alliances through marital vows and threats of craft. Lyra brought us together, all of us. We are made of stronger things now, bonds that cannot be broken. The lands we knew before no longer exist.”

Emi took hold of my hand, pulsed a tight squeeze, then left me to join Yrsa’s side.

I looked over the field. Smoke billowed against clouds heavy with unshed rain. White wolf tunics walked beside double-headed ravens as they mourned. For a moment, they were no longer on opposite sides of a battle.

Near one edge, a Shield Rider offered a ladle of water to an Unfettered spearman.

Emi spoke true. The realms of Stìgandr no longer existed.

These lands would be something different. Something more.

By nightfall, Stav Guard had been arranged in half the camp, under the watch of Kaysar and his unit of archers.

Thane spoke with the Stav Captains, working through proper surrenders to ease the disquiet of the Draven armies.

I strode to the edge of the camp where most of the Dark Watch waited near rows of our folk who had not walked off the battlefield.

Sampson fell. He was an ass, but his wife, still in her battle fatigues, silently cried at his side. Ofan fell near the end. As did the twins’ mother. I paused to recognize their pain. Auki knelt at her side. Kaysar was unmoving, one hand to his chest, his eyes closed. Òlmr whimpered, her head on her paws. Brynn sobbed quietly…against the bulky chest of Kael Darkwin.

He met my stare, dipped his chin, and tightened his hold around Brynn’s shoulders.

I clasped Auki’s forearm. Her soul is at rest.

Auki nodded. “She will see to it that Salur is fully stocked for when we all join her. You know how she enjoyed a good revel.”

He laughed, but it came out more like a sob. I gripped his shoulder, then left them to bid their farewells.

Lyra stood in front of the tallest mound. My mother’s face had been washed, and my wife kept placing blooms around her head with Jordis and Sindri. Dark Watch stood near their queen. Yanson and Gunter stood among a row of warriors with torches in hand.

No one had washed; no one had undressed from battle. Not until our fallen left the field first.

Send them to Salur, I gestured.

Gunter gave a nod to the men and they split across the field, lighting the mounds of those we’d lost.

Lyra held on to my arm. Sindri took my other side, his fingers scratching Kyrre’s big head. Jordis stood next to Lyra, watching as the queen’s mound was lit. We were all that was left. So many in my house had lost their lives, fighting for this moment.

Hatred burned somewhere deep inside. The coil of a soul edged in darkness. But stronger tonight was the desire to make their sacrifices worthwhile.

We would live.

We would be free.

53

Lyra

I stepped from the washroom, muscles aching, with new gashes that would form scars soon enough.

Roark stood in front of the wardrobe, his trousers low on his hips, revealing more than one of his own scars and bruises across his spine and hips. I tried not to stare at the open wounds covering his body. I didn’t want to think of how close we came to Salur.

Not tonight.