The first real blood of the war spilled under a moonless sky on the eastern border.
Astrid crouched in the dark with twelve of Rorik’s elite at her back. Below them a small Silverfang supply convoy moved along the old trade road. Two wagons. Eight guards. One captain she recognized from her old life.
Rorik spoke low beside her. "We can take them clean. Your call."
"We take them," Astrid said. "Supplies and the captain. No survivors to run back with warnings. Move on my signal."
They moved like shadows through the trees. Astrid led the left flank herself. The first guard fell without a sound when her blade found the gap in his armor. The second turned too late. Steel flashed in the dark. The convoy broke into chaos as the rest of the team hit from the right.
"Hold the horses," she orde
