20
Ruarc
The Donn Scail came on the third night.
Not from the western boundary, where it had spent four days completing its circuit-mapping. Not from the north wall, where the third-century mark was now reinforced three layers deep and held with the pack-scent of every living wolf in the territory. It came from the south, from the direction the entity had not studied with any particular attention, the direction that had shown no anomalous activity in any of Liadan's Faidh-readings for twenty-five days.
It had been saving the south.
He understood this the moment the south wall horn sounded — one long note, the full assault signal — and the quality of the Cloch Ban's hum changed in the courtyard below him, the stone's frequency spiking into a register he had never heard from it in three
