‘This other scout … which part of the border was he checking?’ Redmund asked.
‘Northwest.’
Elaaron leaned across to Kiel, quietly dictating a message. A discussion ensued between Gedric and Redmund about Cypria being isolated, the thread of which meant nothing to Irenya. She stared at the map in search of a coherent, useful thing to say. Instead, she remembered the dim alley in Tire and Mikey struggling with his captors. She heard him screaming out to her, frightened and helpless. She shook herself free of the image and reminded herself that Mikey was safe now. And already he was accomplishing what the whole realm had spent three summers praying for. Her son was their future.
She heard her name and looked for the speaker. It was Penradin, his eyes flat and unblinking.
‘I repeat, Lady,
