The Palace. Morning.
Edward stood at the window of his father's chamber, watching the sun rise over the capital.
The sky was orange and red, streaked with clouds that looked like smoke. The city was waking—merchants setting up stalls, servants hurrying through the streets, soldiers patrolling the walls. Life continued. The kingdom continued.
Behind him, the King lay in his bed, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. The physicians said he had days. Maybe less. Edward had not left his side in weeks, but now he had to go.
"The Vargr are massing near the border," Edward said, not turning from the window. "Duke Marcellus says they're waiting for something."
The King's eyes opened. "Waiting for what?"
Edward turned. "I don't know. But I need to see for myself."
The King was silent for a moment. His eyes were cloudy, distant, but they found Edward's face.
"You're leaving."
Edward moved to the bed. Sat in the chair beside it. "I have to."
The King's hand moved beneath the blanket. Found Edward's. Squeezed.
"Don't die," the King whispered.
Edward's throat tightened. "I won't."
The King's eyes closed. His hand relaxed.
Edward sat beside him until the sun climbed higher.
---
Gwen was waiting in the corridor.
Her clothes were plain, her sword at her hip, her face calm. She had been with him since the capital, since the King's illness, since everything had become complicated. She would go with him to the border.
"The escort is ready," she said. "Supplies are loaded. The guild adventurers are at the gate."
Edward nodded. "The King?"
"He's sleeping."
Edward was quiet for a moment. "He won't be awake when I leave."
Gwen shook her head. "The physicians say he may not wake again."
Edward looked at the door to his father's chamber. The guards stood at attention, their faces blank, their spears raised.
"Then I've already said goodbye."
---
The courtyard was busy.
Soldiers formed up in rows—a small escort, a dozen riders. The guild adventurers stood apart, their weapons mismatched, their faces uncertain. They had volunteered for this. They wanted to help.
Edward mounted his horse. Gwen rode beside him.
"The border is three days north," Edward said. "Duke Marcellus is expecting us."
The captain of the escort nodded. "We'll ride hard."
Edward looked at the city, the walls, the palace where his father lay dying.
"Then let's ride."
---
The gates opened.
Edward rode through, Gwen beside him, the escort behind. The city watched him go—merchants, servants, soldiers. A few nobles waved. Most just stared.
Grog was at the gate.
He stood apart from the crowd, his arms crossed, his face still. His sword was at his hip, his rings on his belt. He had been there since dawn.
Edward reined in. "Grog."
"Edward."
"The King?"
"Is dying."
Grog nodded slowly. "The guild will hold."
Edward met his eyes. "Find Aldric."
Grog was quiet for a moment. "I will."
"Bring him back."
Grog didn't answer.
Edward rode on.
---
The road north was long.
The fields were green, the farms were scattered, the villages were small. Edward had traveled this road before—as a child, with his father. As a young man, with his brother. Now he traveled alone.
Gwen rode beside him. "You're thinking."
"Always."
"What?"
Edward was quiet for a moment. "About the King. About the border. About what we'll find."
Gwen looked at the road ahead. "Duke Marcellus says the Vargr are waiting."
"The Vargr are always waiting."
"This is different."
Edward nodded. "That's what I'm afraid of."
---
The smoke appeared on the horizon.
Edward saw it first—a thin column, dark against the sky. The captain of the escort raised his hand. The column stopped.
"Village ahead," the captain said. "It's burning."
Edward's jaw tightened. "Ride."
They rode hard.
The village was small—a dozen houses, a mill, a shrine. The buildings were burning, the roofs collapsed, the walls blackened. Bodies lay in the streets. Farmers. Children. Old people.
The Vargr were gone.
Edward dismounted. Walked through the ruins. The bodies were cold. The fires were dying. The attack had been hours ago.
"The Vargr," Gwen said, kneeling beside a body. "They came through here. Heading north."
Edward looked at the pass in the distance. The mountains where the Vargr were massing.
"They're not raiding," he said. "They're clearing a path."
Gwen stood. "For what?"
Edward shook his head. "I don't know."
---
They buried the dead.
The soldiers dug graves. The guild adventurers said prayers. Edward stood apart, watching.
Gwen moved to stand beside him.
"The Vargr have never done this before," she said. "Attacked a village so far from the border."
"They're not attacking. They're sending a message."
"What message?"
Edward looked at the mountains. "That they're not afraid."
Gwen was silent for a moment. "Should we be?"
Edward met her eyes. "Yes."
---
They rode on as the sun began to set.
The pass was visible in the distance—dark, jagged, foreboding. The mountains rose on either side, their peaks lost in the clouds.
Duke Marcellus's keep was a day's ride north. They would reach it tomorrow.
Edward looked back at the village, still smoking behind them.
"Faster," he said.
They rode through the night.