days on getting everyone in that she hadn’t
thought of things like catapults and shattering
blocks of heavy stone.
She’d moved their healing supplies, too. To
an inner chamber where it would take the
entire keep collapsing to destroy what was
inside. The Torre healers had brought what
they could from the fleet, but they’d made
more when they arrived. Not their best work,
not by any means, but Eretia had ordered that
the salves and tonics need only to function,
not dazzle, and to keep mixing.
All was set. All was ready. Or as ready as
they might ever be.
So Yrene lingered on the battlements,
listening to the bone drums for a while longer.
Chaol told himself it was not his last night
with his wife. He’d still made the best of it,
and they had rested as much as they could