ELI
I set the patrol map flat on the table and weigh the corners with the four small iron stones my father kept in this room when this room was his.
"Six on patrol," I say. "Two dead. Three wounded. One missing."
I say it the way it needs to be said, without softening, because the room around me is built of men who have buried their own and who deserve the truth in clean sentences.
Elder Bran's hand tightens on the head of his cane. He is the oldest member of the council and was one of my father’s most trusted advisors.
I let the silence hold for one beat. Two. Then I go on, mildly, the way I say hard things when I want the room to keep working.
"This is the third incident in seven weeks. Each one at a place we should not have any kind of vulnerability. These attacks are swift and hi
