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Together we followed the flood of Draven warriors, farmers, smiths, and any soul able to hold a blade toward the weapon stores kept at the base of the palace. Already lines of men and women were tossing out blades in a hurried manner.

I snatched the first broadsword and ax I could grab. Lyra and Emi were already fitted with quivers filled with bone arrows, hickory bows in their grips. Gunter stood between them, clad in his Dark Watch hood. Yanson stood at his son’s back to ensure the two crossed short blades on Gunter’s shoulders were secure.

“First battle together.” Gunter flashed me a grin. “I’ve heard such fanciful tales of the Death Bringer. Impress me, old friend, or I’ll never let you live down your mortification.”

Keep her alive, and I will bathe in all the blood you wish.

“Almost had that one. Something about ‘him alive.’ No, you pointed at Lyra.” Gunter glanced at my wife. “Keep her alive. Well, obviously. She’s much prettier than you.”

Lyra rolled her eyes. “Let us all stay alive.”

“Excellent plan.” Gunter shook out his hands and clapped his father on the shoulder. “Shall we go kill some Jorvans?”

Without another word, Lyra shoved through, her grip on the bow. “Roark. If Thane is there, we should try to speak to him.”

Agreed. If we can.

“And…if they have Kael.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t know what I will do.”

I pinched her chin between my fingers, forcing her to look at me. Kill anyone near him, and we will take him back.

Her jaw tightened. “Stay alive, Ashwood, or I will find you in the mirror and grant you no peace until you die, all to aggravate you some more.”

I chuckled softly and ran my thumb along her bottom lip before peeling myself from her and rushing toward the ground warriors. Lyra and Emi raced for the slopes and trees with the other archers.

A yap and growl followed me. The fara wolf plodded behind, tail wagging. One palm on the beast’s head, I brought him to a halt. There was a stirring in my chest, a strange sort of affection for the creature, and I had no time to focus on it.

I held the beast’s golden stare. Not speaking with anything but thought, I told it, Follow her. If you are with me, you’ll know who I mean. Go.

The wolf sat on its haunches and scratched its mangled ear, its tongue hanging out the side of its mouth.

Damn stupid beast.

I sprinted forward to the front of the line. My folk stepped aside as I passed, some clapping me on the shoulders, others merely roaring cries for bloodshed. Only when I reached the head of the line did I pause.

Perhaps a hundred paces down the hillside, at the edge of the village, no less than fifty Stav Guard stood in lines behind a wall of round shields.

“At your word, Prince.”

The queen strode through the crowd. Her hair was tied high on her head and leathers coated her body. In her grip was a dagger, and strapped across her middle were throwing knives. No one could handle a knife like Elisabet Foxglen.

Rumors of the Dark Watch’s love of leaving pieces of their victims across the Red Ravines were in part because of my mother. The queen took it as a personal slight should anyone attempt to harm her clan.

She held a love of pinning fingers, eyes, and tongues to trees on Jorvan lands.

I pointed at her. She was the word of Dravenmoor, the queen.

My mother turned to the Dark Watch. “Follow the lead of your prince. No one knows the battle strategies of the Stav Guard better than my son.”

Warriors pounded their swords to their chests, a call to arms, of loyalty.

I faced the Stav Guard.

We trained them to stand in a block of shields, to force the enemy to break through. No doubt archers would be in those trees, taking out our armies as we drew nearer. Weakness would be found in the flanks. We needed to encircle them, put them on the defensive, and I needed to do it without losing lives.

This battle was the first where my clan would see me stand with them instead of slaughtering the ravagers sent to face my blade.

It would be the first time they saw Lyra fire Draven arrows.