"No banner at all," Lucien repeated, already moving toward the wall. "That's either mercenaries or someone who doesn't want to be identified."
"Neither option is reassuring," Ariana said, following close behind.
They climbed the ramparts quickly, and Ariana's stomach tightened at the sight below. A dozen riders approached at a controlled pace, not the frantic charge of an attack, but deliberate, confident, unhurried despite the exhausted state of Blackthorn's defenses after the night's battle.
"They're not rushing," Grier observed. "That's either arrogance or they know we're too worn down to stop them if it comes to that."
"Positions," Lucien called down into the courtyard. "Everyone still standing, to the wall."
Warriors scrambled into formation, exhaustion evident in every movement
