Five in the morning. The study had filled with warriors before the sun had fully decided to rise.
Twelve wolves at Ironpeak's boundary. Bren's report was precise and unhurried, the specific economy of a senior warrior who had spent the night confirming what we already suspected and was now delivering it without embellishment. They had arrived sometime after midnight. Positioned with tactical precision, covering every entry point along the boundary line. Not entering. Not engaging. Simply present, the way a held breath is present, waiting to see what would happen next.
"This is not Crane's people," Bren said. "The positioning is different. More practiced. These are people who have been doing this for a very long time."
"Who sent them?" Rowan asked.
I told the room. The staff member upst
