Karrik had brought the words, but Harrag carried them now. "Morn says famous stone breaks men on both sides."
Murren nodded slowly. "Not a fool's warning."
Rusk looked unhappy hearing that from a Stone Crow.
Ulmar rubbed his beard. "Fire would help in the lower yard."
"Fire also tells the wall where to look," Oren said.
"And Burned Men do not always stop burning when asked," Sella added.
No one argued.
Torren had been quiet so long that when he spoke, several eyes turned toward him at once.
"The Vale is fighting itself," he said.
Harrag did not stop him, so he continued.
"Falcon men pull swords where they need them. Bronze men raid below. Gull men buy sellswords. Bell lands hide sick behind walls. Maybe none of that makes the Gate weak. But it makes men busy. If this winter keeps going, they will pull more food and more men behind stone. Later may not be safer. Later may only be hungrier."
Ulmar watched him. "You sound very sure for someone saying maybe."
Torren almost answered too quickly. He stopped himself.
"I'm not sure," he said. "I'm hungry enough to listen to bad ideas before they become the only ideas."
That was closer to the truth than he meant to come.
Sarra looked at Harrag. "Your son speaks like your camp is already chewing bark."
Harrag did not flinch. "Not yet."
"Soon?"
"If we do nothing, yes."
Ulmar looked at her, then at the one-eyed elder. The elder gave a small nod, not agreement, only acknowledgment.
Kedge tapped the high stones again. "Stone Crows hold above. Not share. Hold. If someone else tries to climb into my men's place, I pull mine out."
"Agreed," Harrag said.
Ulmar immediately said, "No agreement yet."
Harrag looked at him. "Fine. Heard."
Ulmar pointed to the lower break where Harrag had placed the Moon Brother stones. "If my men hold there, we need a way out if the wall wakes."
"There is no good way out," Oren said.
The broad Moon Brother gave him a hard look. "Then make one."
"I would if stone listened to me."
Sella crouched, then moved a thin stick along the snow. "There is a gully here. Narrow. Bad snow in it. If men know before, they can go down one by one. Not fast."
Ulmar said, "One by one is how men die."
"One by one is how men climb," Sella said.
"Moon Brothers are not Stone Crows."
"We noticed."
Harrag said, "Enough."
For once, both sides obeyed.
The fire popped weakly between them.
Torren looked around the hollow: Harrag's hard face, Ulmar's heavy stare, Kedge's sharp attention, Sarra counting lives in silence, Murren studying the stones as if the mountain itself had spoken poorly and needed correction. Nobody looked eager now. That was good, probably. Eager men made noise. Hungry men made plans.
Harrag moved the black stone away from the smaller stones.
"The Gate stays here," he said. "We do not touch it in the first talk."
Kedge looked at him. "First talk?"
"Yes."
Ulmar frowned. "You already think of a second?"
"I think of men changing their minds when they smell food."
No one liked that. Nobody denied it.
Harrag put his finger on the lower sheds. "This is what I ask you to consider. Not oath. Not blood yet. Consider. Stone Crows above. Moon Brothers below. Painted Dogs in the yard. We strike quick, take what can be carried, burn nothing unless forced, and leave before the wall understands."
"And if the wall understands early?" Sarra asked.
"Then we leave with empty hands and living men if we can."
Rusk looked at him. "And if men inside the sheds shout?"
Oren answered. "Then they die fast."
The plainness of it sat in the cold.
Ulmar looked at Torren, then Harrag. "You said maybe Gate."
Harrag nodded. "I did."
"Now you say sheds."
"I say sheds first."
Kedge gave a low laugh. "There it is."
Harrag did not pretend otherwise. "A man standing at the edge of a cave first throws a stone. He does not leap because he heard water."
Murren grunted. "Unless he is young."
"Then he breaks his neck," Harrag said.
Hokor leaned closer to Torren and murmured, "He looked at us without looking."
Torren whispered back, "I noticed."
Ulmar stood, brushing snow from his knee. "Moon Brothers will not answer here."
Harrag nodded. "Nor Stone Crows, I think."
Kedge stood too. "We answer after speaking with our own."
Rusk muttered, "More speaking."
Sella heard him. "You can always run at the Gate alone and spare us the noise."
Rusk showed his teeth. "I may start with you."
"Try after the meeting. I dislike interruptions."
Harrag's voice cut through them. "Enough."
The hollow settled again.
Ulmar looked toward the sky. "Snow comes tonight."
"Yes," Oren said.
"Then we leave before it closes the gullies."
Kedge gathered his cloak. "Stone Crows will send word in two days if the mountain does not bury the messenger."
Ulmar said, "Same."
Harrag looked from one to the other. "Two days."
No hands were clasped. No oaths sworn. No one named it alliance. They kicked snow over the weak fire until smoke crawled low, then each group pulled back toward its own stone, its own cold, its own hungry camp.
Torren remained a moment longer, staring at the marks Oren had scratched into the snow. The black stone for the Gate had been moved aside. The smaller stones still sat below it.
Hokor came up beside him. "You all right?"
"No."
"Good. I was going to worry if you said yes."
Torren looked at him.
Hokor lifted both hands. "What? I'm learning."
Torren almost smiled, but the wind took it before it became much.
Behind them, Harrag called for them to move.
Torren turned away from the hollow. He did not look back until they had climbed the first rise. From there, Old Hollow looked small, just a dark scrape in the white, already being softened by drifting snow.
No agreement had been made.
But the stones had been placed.
And every man there had seen them.