lady than any other he’d met, in any court.
“Then let us prepare for war, husband,”
Yrene said, sorrow and dread filling her eyes.
And it was the sight of that kernel of fear,
not for herself but what they were
undoubtedly soon to take part in, to witness,
that had him sweeping her into his arms and
laying her upon the bed. “War can wait until
morning,” he said, and lowered his mouth to
hers.
Dawn broke, and the ruks arrived.
So many ruks they blotted out the watery
sun, the boom of wings and rustle of feathers
filling the skies.
People cried out this time, their voices a
herald of the screams to come when that army
reached their doorstep.
On the plain before the southern side of the
keep, flowing to the lake edge itself, the ruks