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Toryn’s throbbing head lolled on his aching neck and cracked onto a hard surface behind. He blinked away stars to find he lay in a wagon used as part of the make-shift barricade back at the mine. A shaft of moonlight streaked through one of the many rips in the canopy. The light fell on a dozen guards and a miner he recognized from the parapet. Most slept, or grumbled as their battered bodies rolled about on the hard floor. Toryn winced as the wagon hit a rut and the rusty bands securing his wrists and ankles dug into swollen, bruised flesh. He tried to swallow, but the foul taste in his dry mouth would not shift. Visions of the sickly green hue of Uldrak’s poison creeping up the rock face, came flooding back. But what of—?

Hamar! Toryn groaned. His head dropped back and the remaining tears he had stemmed in the hall, flowed. Hamar had always seemed ancient, so the boy in him had clung to the belief the old man would always be at his side. But now he was alone, truly alone. It was Hamar who had put up with his youthful antics, spawned from the frustration of being confined to his tiny village. It was Hamar who understood his need to discover the realms beyond the fences. Toryn now appreciated Hamar’s stories were as much for his benefit as they were for Hamar to preserve his memories. The tales had served to soothe his restless soul, and satisfy his curious mind. They allowed Toryn to experience the outside world, and thus prevent him doing anything that would get him into trouble. He knew in a way Hamar would always be at his side. For every situation, Hamar had a story to offer advice, cheer him up, or to calm him. Wherever he would find himself, Toryn knew he could rely on the old man’s words to come to mind. And, in an odd way, it was an honor to have been with him at the end, no matter how brutal it had turned out. He had glimpsed how Hamar must have fought in his prime. Toryn managed a smile. Hamar and Elwold may have been long-retired and out of practice, but Toryn took pleasure in the shock on the raiders’ faces as the old guards had taken them by surprise.

The wagon lurched, stirring more men awake. Toryn studied his fellow captives strewn about the boards. Were all of them like Hamar? But that had not helped against the devilry Uldrak unleashed. His stomach recalled the burning eyes beneath the creature’s hood. If more like Uldrak led the Ruuk, how could they repel such a force?

The wagon rode over another bump in the road. Toryn needed to know what lay outside. He shuffled around, bearing the pain between gritted teeth to look out of a gap in the canvas. The mountains had gone. A plain covered in a blanket of snow stretched as far as he could see in the moonlight. He wondered if it stayed this flat until it eventually reached the Draegelan Trench. He imagined determined ranks of his ancestors defending their lands with their spear tips and armor glinting in the light of the moon. But what dark force had threatened them to justify constructing the deep trench? Hamar had said no matter how impressive the Caerwal Gate, it paled compared to the feat of digging the trench. Toryn had listened in awed silence as Hamar told of the near-impossible task of transporting the quarried stone south to build Calerdorn and Keld. He had sat wide-eyed, trying but failing to envisage the sight of the huge wagons, made from whole tree trunks, hauled by giant beasts across the rough terrain. He smiled as he wondered how much of the tale was Hamar’s invention.

Toryn gazed up at the sky. The light of a thousand stars spilled through a wide gap in the clouds. He risked sticking his head out farther to find the bear and wolf. It took a few moments, but he found them; here they fought their endless duel for supremacy of the north, a little higher in the sky.

A horse approached. He ducked back inside and bit his tongue against the sharp pain cracking his skull. The miner opposite stirred. Toryn wiped the tears from his face with a tattered sleeve. The miner nodded over Toryn’s shoulder. ‘They’re taking us north. That’s us and another wagon behind. Hope you’ve brought your coat.’ He shivered. ‘We passed through the Drunny Gate yesterday morning. I don’t think they’ll be closing it for a while, not much left.’ He grinned, pointing to his mouth. ‘Just like my teeth. But I didn’t have too many to lose before the fight.’

Toryn frowned. ‘Wait, did you say yesterday?’

‘They must have drugged us. That’ll account for your muzzy head.’ The miner pointed to his temple. ‘Didn’t work on me for some reason. Ha! Must be down to the poison passing for ale in the tavern I spend most of my time. But I’m forgetting myself. The name’s Jedrul, from Lunn. But I prefer Jed. I’d shake your hand if I could.’ He pulled on the chain. ‘It seems our hosts aren’t so keen to let us enjoy the ride and make new friends.’

‘Toryn, from Midwyche, that’s in—’

‘Darrow.’ Jedrul chuckled. ‘I used to dream about living on the west side of the peaks to escape the bitter easterlies.’ He struggled to sit up. ‘I passed through Darrow, let me see, must be twenty years ago, to come to Drunny, been here ever since, well, until today.’

Toryn tried to return the smile. ‘I guess it’s warmer this side.’

‘And far prettier. Lunn is as grim as it sounds, grim even for Broon. Mostly flat from the ocean as far as the eye can see. The only features are bogs and lakes, but they offer no shelter. The wind comes howling in from the sea and meets no resistance until the mountains.’

‘Hamar, my err… grandfather, told me about the place. But he wouldn’t be in a hurry to return. Sorry, no offence.’

Jedrul grinned. ‘None taken. You won’t find any in Lunn who’d disagree. They say the wise leave, and only the fools return.’ He looked up. ‘Now I come to think about it, that doesn’t make any sense. Funny. It’s taken me twenty years to figure that out.’ He pointed to his cheek. ‘Anyway, you can also spot folk from the east coast. Doesn’t matter how long it’s been since we left, we still wear our Lunn Leather faces.’

‘Skin as tough as a cow’s hide. All down to the never-ending salty breeze.’ He winked. ‘You folks this side of the mountains would call it a gale. They say if it ever stopped blowing, we’d all fall over seeing as we’re so used to leaning into it. My grandma called it a lazy wind.' He grinned. ‘Couldn’t be bothered to go around, so it just went straight through you.’

Toryn laughed despite the pain. ‘What part are you from?’

‘Flint, by the sea.’

‘North of Keld, isn’t it?’

Jedrul flinched as he slapped his thigh. ‘You’ve heard of it? And know where it is!’

‘The map! I’ve got Hamar’s map, oh wait.’ Toryn patted his leg. ‘Ah yes, still have it. Surprised they didn’t search me and take it.’ At least he had more than the memories of Hamar to keep — but for how much longer?

Jedrul snorted. ‘I bet it only has the name of the place on your map. Nothing else is worth a mention, apart from the cliffs. The headland juts out to sea like a bony wyke’s finger.’

Toryn welcomed the distraction to talk to someone from the other side of the mountains. He cheered. ‘You’ve been down the mines for twenty years?’

‘Better than spending my time in Lunn. It was the mines, or a lifetime of the wind stripping the skin from my bones. Not for me, much happier under the ground. The wind don’t blow down there, and it’s not so bad with the heat from the torches.’ Jedrul glanced around the wagon. ‘Others may moan about the harsh conditions at Drunsberg, but it was a big improvement compared to my home, and I was better fed. But I suppose I’ll be getting a change of scenery now.’

Toryn looked at his fellow captives. ‘What do you think will happen to us?’

Jedrul shrugged. ‘We’ll survive somehow. Whatever they have planned for us can’t be more dangerous than mining the deep seams.’

Toryn remembered the words from the cave. ‘I heard a raider say they’re to train us for the ranks of the lady. Any idea who she is?’

Jedrul chuckled. ‘I doubt they mean the good Lady Harlyn. I saw her once.’ He tried to whistle through his broken teeth. ‘What a beauty. She visited Drunny with the Lord a while back. A fine woman if ever I saw one.’ He sighed. ‘Hair the color of a sunset. Not that I’ve seen one for a while. Ha! Make that a sunset and a young woman.’ He nudged the leg of the guard next to him. ‘You awake, Roold?’

The man groaned. ‘Let me sleep. Wake me when we arrive, or my breakfast is ready.’

Jedrul chuckled. ‘Might be a while before you eat bacon again. But listen. The lad here says they’re taking us to the lady. Do you know who she might be?’

Roold wiped his hand down his face. ‘Nope, ask Nander. He claims to know every woman from the mountains to the sea. Now let me sleep.’

Jedrul rolled his eyes. ‘Can’t be too many in these parts.’ The wagon jolted, sending the men tumbling into each other. Jedrul pushed himself up and stuck his head through the canvas. He dropped back inside. ‘We’ve changed direction, my guess is we’re heading west, there’s little to the east, or the north for that matter. We can only be a few leagues from the trench, and then it’s all ice beyond, so they say.’

Toryn turned away from the cold air. ‘Are we still in Dorn?’

‘Oh no. We’re well out of the realms by now. Bet you never thought you’d ever see the day you’d be outside the Five.’

Toryn slumped. ‘Can’t say I did.’

‘Oi!’ The rail behind Toryn shook. ‘Keep it down or we’ll make you pull it, and the one behind.’

Another laughed. ‘You’ll be needing all the sleep you can get, so make the most of the ride, boys.’

‘You awake?’ Jedrul nudged Toryn’s foot. He opened his eyes and groaned to see it was still night, but at least they had stopped moving. Outside the wagon, torches flickered as their captors sang and laughed. Jedrul sat back. ‘We stopped a while back. They’re cooking a hog on a spit, one stolen from our stores, but I don’t suppose they’ll leave any for us.’

Toryn’s stomach rumbled as the rich smell of roasting meat wafted in. ‘I can’t remember the last time I ate a full meal.’ His breath vaporized in the bitter air.

‘I wouldn’t waste time looking forward to the next one.’ Jedrul nodded to the opening. ‘Be lucky to feed off the leftovers.’ More men in the wagon woke at the smell of supper.

Roold sat. ‘Any clue where we are, Jed?’

‘Judging by the racket they’re making and all their blazing torches, I can safely say we’re still north of the border. They don’t seem to care who sees or hears them.’

Roold shuffled, trying to find a better position. ‘How many escort us?’

Again, Jedrul answered. ‘No more than thirty I’d say.’

‘We must number at least twenty. Charming. If they think they have enough to prevent our escape, they should think again.’

Nander raised his hand and jangled the chain. ‘But they’re not wearing the jewelry.’ He pulled his arm back. ‘And we appear to be fastened to the floor.’

Roold lifted the chain to the light. ‘These are ancient, must be a weak link somewhere. Come on, ladies, wakey, wakey and check your chains. I doubt those scum took much care securing these to the wagon. If we can break it up, we can throttle the swine in their sleep. That’ll teach them to fill their stomachs with our meat and ale.’

Nander groaned. ‘Who made you captain, Roold?’

‘I did. I’m the senior in this wagon at least, and Porek is in no state to lead.’

‘Why not?’ Nander narrowed his eyes at Roold.

‘He’s dead. I was at his side when the green stuff took him down. Poor sod had no chance. Both him and his brother so close together.’ He rattled his chain. ‘Like it or not, I’m your new captain, so make a start on these links. The closer we get to where these swine want to take us, the less I rate our chances.’

‘What if that wyke creature is with them?’ Jedrul peered at the shadows of their captors looming on the wagon’s canvas. ‘Don’t think I could strangle him before he conjured up something horrible.’

Toryn spoke. ‘I heard he’d be out cold for a couple of days after his trick with that stone. Mind you, the same raider said Uldrak was wary of this lady we’re being taken to.’

Jedrul chuckled. ‘Now that makes me feel so much better.’

Nander scowled at Toryn. ‘And what do you know of the world? You don’t look old enough to shave.’

Jedrul stiffened. ‘Don’t you talk to young Toryn like that. He took down that ballista with a single arrow. Saw it from the parapet.’

Nander sneered. ‘A fat lot of good that did. Might have been better to take a bolt through the chest and end it quick.’

Roold hushed Nander. ‘He managed more than you, Nandy.’ He beamed at Toryn. ‘A fine shot from a fair distance, young man. I think we can make you an honorary Archonian considering our predicament.’ He turned to the other men. ‘Any objections?’

Toryn felt his chest expand as the men, apart from Nander, signaled their approval. It was only a shame Hamar could not be with him. He nodded to Roold. ‘Thank you, Captain.’

‘Roold will do.’

Roold nodded. ‘And quite right he didn’t. He’d have sworn the Oath. It’s known only to those taking it, but seeing as you’re one of us now, I don’t think—’

Nander cleared his throat. ‘He’s not yet. We’ve not done the initiation, and he hasn’t sworn no Oath.’

Roold held up his hand. ‘Never known you to be bothered about proper ceremony. But you’re right. Once we’re out of this mess we’ll do it the proper way. But we’ll take it as read it will be done, but seeing as we don’t know what lies ahead, I think it’s only right and proper to inform the lad. We don’t want him waking up not knowing where he is, should the worst happen.’ Roold straightened as best he could. ‘Did your friend, Hamar, put Elwold out of his misery?’

Toryn whispered. ‘Yes. Elwold was on his knees. A Ruuk said he had plans for him. Hamar fought off two and… finished Elwold with one blow.’

Roold beamed. ‘Hamar was a good Archonian, one of the finest. I’m sure we’d all have been honored to have fought by his side and let him hasten our way to the Plains.’

Toryn bit his lip. ‘He was, and not a bad farmer either.’

‘Then he’ll be at home on the Plains of Evermore. It’s where we go if we die with a sword in our hand, or at the hand of a brother when our honor is at stake. It’s said the rich soils of the plains grow the finest wheat for bread, and, of course, hops for ale, and—’

‘Must be over-crowded after yesterday.’ Nander sneered. ‘Come on, we all know it’s just a tale to make us fight.’ He looked around. ‘You can’t honestly believe we’ll all get a farm in Evermore, can you? There can’t be enough to hand out to all those who’ve died in battle. Knowing our luck, we’ll wake up in a pigsty.’

Jedrul laughed. ‘Then you’ll feel at home.’

Roold glowered. ‘Come on, lads, don’t mock the Promise. It’s written we all get a farm, by the Archon no less, and that’s good enough for me.’

But Nander refused to be silenced. ‘Then I’ll make you this promise. If I wake up after taking a sword in my gut, only to find I’m farming a field next to you, Roold, you’re welcome to all the ale I can brew.’

Roold tutted. ‘If they put me next to you, I’d happily drink the lot if it means I stay too drunk to listen to you rambling on.’ The men laughed. Toryn joined in, already understanding why Hamar called them his brothers.

‘Got one!’ Jedrul held up his chain. ‘Here, look. I’ve prized this link open with a spike I pulled out of the wood.’

‘Outstanding work.’ Roold patted Jedrul on the shoulder. ‘Now the rest of you get to it, there has to be more links we can break.’ The raucous laughter outside grew louder. ‘They’re well on their way. I reckon in a few hours we’ll have our chance. I doubt this disorderly bunch will think to leave anyone sober enough to watch over us.’

Nander licked his lips. ‘I hope they don’t eat all the meat. My stomach thinks my throat's been slit.’

‘Well, let’s hope your belly doesn’t turn out to be right.’ Roold winced. ‘Any of you come across that green poison before? My head still hurts.’

‘I…’ Toryn stopped as all eyes fixed on him. ‘I have. Me and Hamar saw rocks ooze that stuff and destroy a Singing Stone.’

‘A Singing Stone?’ Roold gasped. ‘That can’t be good, oh no, not good at all. I’ve never had the luck to find one, but Elwold, rest his soul, spoke of them. Where was this?’

Toryn’s stomach churned at the memory. ‘About a few leagues south of Greendell.’

Roold nodded. ‘That’ll be the Wend Gap.’

‘Wait.’ Nander frowned. ‘I heard you came from Greendell to report the attack. What were you doing in the Gap? Why not take the road?’

Toryn felt his face flush. ‘We… Hamar…’

‘Give it a rest, Nandy, stuff’s happening that’s well out of the ordinary. I think we can ignore a minor misdemeanor.’ He laughed. ‘Come on, think about it. What would a veteran with Hamar’s reputation and his grandson be going to Greendell for?’ He winked at Toryn. ‘I would say Hamar had a bit of business there, eh?’

But Nander was not convinced. ‘How do we know he’s not a spy? Funny how the attack came shortly after they arrived.’

Roold reprimanded Nander. ‘Leave it, you can’t go accusing a veteran, a veteran who’s shown his loyalty to a fellow brother only hours ago and made the ultimate sacrifice. You should… shush.’ He cocked an ear and whispered. ‘It’s gone quiet. Surely, they can’t be asleep already.’ The wagon lurched. Roold groaned. ‘No, we can’t be on our way? So soon?’

Jedrul sighed. ‘Seems these fellows aren’t the ragtag bunch we had them down to be.’

Roold tried to sit but fell back as the wagon dipped into a trough. ‘Or they fear Uldrak’s boss more than they desire the taste of a fine ale. This isn’t good news.’

‘We’re turning again.’ Jedrul stuck his head out of the canopy leading to shouts of protests from their captors. He dropped back. ‘We're going south. Must have passed the worst of the marshes.’ He grabbed a rail. ‘Better hold on tight, lads, we’re in for a bumpy ride through Mawlgrim Mire. Let’s hope the bog grims are tucked in deep for the night. Wouldn’t fancy one of them digging its long, grimy fingers into my throat.’

Toryn took hold of the bar behind. ‘Bog grims?’

‘It ain’t all flies and mud, lad. I’ve heard there’s creatures living under the sludge, and they’re quite partial to human flesh when they can get it.’

Roold laughed. ‘Don’t listen to him. It’s all nonsense. You should know better, Jed, than to listen to those tales.’

Jedrul shook his head. ‘I know plenty who’ve seen them. But if you don’t believe me about the bog grims, at least hold your noses if you have a hand to spare. I’ve heard the mire don’t smell too good.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Must be taking us back into Dorn. But that don’t make sense.’

Roold groaned. ‘There’s only one place south from here where they’ll be taking us.’ He pulled up his chains. ‘I know where this mystery lady of theirs dwells. Back on those links, lads. I don’t care if I have to chew my own hands and feet off to get out of this wagon, I ain’t letting them take me to Wyke Wood.’