Glorious.
So all three Northern Clans decided to invade Solkar’s Reach while Ryker and most of our warriors were off to war and couldn’t be called back.
If they hadn’t known I was here, they definitely knew now.
And if they had been informed and thought they could invade on my watch, well, that just angered me. The kind of anger that made me want to draw blood.
But I had more pressing issues than revenge.
The crater had allowed them to breach the rim.
The breath rushed out of me.
We’d managed to fend them off today, but what about tomorrow? The day after that? We’d already lost seventeen warriors and won through the grace of a desperate idea and the magic of Solkar’s Reach finally taking pity on us.
“Why would they risk it?” I asked.
“They’ve been envious of Solkar’s Reach for generations,” Vylkor said. He still avoided looking my way, but the weariness hadn’t completely vanished from his voice. If my powers frightened him, this display hadn’t helped. “It seems it is our turn to protect the crater like it has protected us until now.”
I wished I had his unshakable faith.
Ryker had said the Northern Clans sucked power from Solkar’s Reach and wanted more. Taking control of the crater would get rid of that pesky problem.
“How come you don’t use these piratey weapons?” Dax kicked one of the barbed spears which had almost ended his life.
Vylkor grimaced at the ice. “Our ancestors adapted to their surroundings. They didn’t cling to shameful history, like the others.”
“Thanks for saving me,” Dax said suddenly. It sounded casual–too much so–but I heard the respect cracking at the nonchalance.
Vylkor turned his mighty eye on him. “It’s my duty, outsider.”
“You can call me Dax, you know.”
Vylkor only hummed in reply.
I didn’t blame him.
My heart ached for the souls we’d lost, but Vylkor had known them.
Probably watched them grow up.
Trained them.
He carried a heavier pain, even as guilt scratched at my mind.
I’d commanded our charge.
Those lives would forever mark my soul.
They’d been so young.
Now they had to lay among their enemies in an icy tomb until their bodies could be saved and brought to the Memory Hall, to rest among their ancestors.
The broken ice had left a gaping wound in the wall, exposing its dark, granite bowels. Deep grooves had sunken into it along the eons, like the snow had dragged its claws over it.
The ropes still dangled from the side of the crater. Forgotten–just like the soldiers they hadn’t tried to warn.
Or maybe not.
