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Chapter 23: The Threads Begin to Pull
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Chapter 25: Frost Fire
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... in the bones for those not used to it — the kind of cold that didn’t simply pass, but settled, quiet and unrelenting. Seth, a young man from House Medea, rode at the front of a column of men, black-cloaked and silent, each bearing no banner but marked by the deep silver stitching on their leather — a coiling mark like a tethered flame. Not noblemen, not quite soldiers. Mercenaries, disciplined and sharp-eyed, trained in the broken fields of the Northern borders, where law bent to the strong and ...
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