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hand. “The Sword of Orynth, if you will.”
Ren started. “You’re out of your mind,
Darrow.”
Aedion just stared. The ancient lord said,
“That sword belongs to a true general of
Terrasen, to its prince-commander. As you are
no longer the bearer of that title, the sword
shall return to Orynth. Until a new,
appropriate bearer can be determined.”
Ren growled, “That sword is in our
possession, Darrow, because of Aedion. Had
he not won it back, it would still be rusting in
Adarlan’s trove.”
“He will always have our gratitude for it. If
only in that regard, at least.”
A dull roar filled Aedion’s head. Darrow’s
hand remained extended.
He deserved this, he supposed. For his
failure on these battlefields, his failure to
defend the land he’d promised Aelin he’d