Gathering Shadows
The road back to Borderhold was a ribbon of silver beneath a slate sky, flanked by stands of skeletal pines. Vera Lanst rode at the head of the column, Yurian Helios at her side, the Wolf-King's banner and the Grayrock pennant snapping together in the cold wind. The militia that had knelt at Grayrock's ruins now rode with rifles and wolf-tooth talismans, their faces set in quiet determination. Lanterns swung from saddle horns, casting wavering pools of light on the packed snow.
As they passed the charcoal remains of an abandoned outpost, Merrow spurred forward to ride alongside Vera. “General Sarkan's forces patrol the eastern ridge," she reported softly. “Their scouts are restless since last night's skirmish."
Vera nodded. “And Belwright's men?"
“They linger in Borde
