1564024802

this continent.
It still fit him well, the muted metal
scratched and dented. Not the finest piece of
armor from the family arsenal beneath the
keep, but the sturdiest. A sword hung at his
hip, and a shield lay against the battlement
wall. Around them, sentries tried not to watch,
though their fear-wide eyes tracked every
movement.
The drums pounded on.
Chaol came up beside his father, his own
dark tunic reinforced with armor at his
shoulders, forearms, and shins.
A cane of ironwood had been sheathed
down Chaol’s back, for when Yrene’s magic
began to fade, and his chair waited just inside
the great hall, for when her power depleted
entirely.
What his father had made of it when Chaol
had explained yesterday, he hadn’t let on.