CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
The Master of Crows let his attention wander, splitting it through bird after bird as he watched the events unfolding below. He let his borrowed eyes take in an execution in Heimdorf, a meeting along a riverbank. He collected pieces to fit together like a master craftsman inlaying a table, the pattern of it already forming in his head.
All of that was a distraction, though, a way of ensuring that nothing unexpected happened. The part that mattered, he watched with corvid after corvid, raven and crow, rook and magpie, all watching fragments of the whole.
He brought his attention back, briefly, to the grand house in Carrick where he sat in the drawing room, maps spread out on a table. Wooden pieces sat there, moved by junior officers according to the latest reports. T
