Just after dawn, Darrow's column, which consisted of sixty riders in a disciplined formation with no banners but an unmistakable bearing that swept across the valley approach like a slow, deliberate tide, crested the western peak as the officer had anticipated. From the terraced heights next to Cole, Bran observed the token cold and silent in his pocket, where it had been since the Hollow Reach, wardiron a constant weight against his hip. "They're not attacking yet," Cole noted. "Just establishing position." "Waiting for something," Bran remarked. Cole's jaw hardened as he said, "Or someone." "If the southern force reaches us first, Darrow may simply be waiting to see what they do before committing to anything himself.”The response arrived more quickly than either of them anticipated. Bran heard a shout from the southern watch and turned to see a lone rider emerge from the tree line below. It wasn't fifteen or twenty riders, but just one person, moving with a slow, deliberate purpos

The western barricades erupted in shouted commands the moment Bran and Rathorn arrived, archers already loosing their first arrows toward Darrow's advancing line, the disciplined riders responding with practiced ease, shields raised, formation tightening, the ancient rhythm of an attack that had clearly been rehearsed long before this particular morning."Stay behind the second barricade," Rathorn instructed, already advancing toward the officers coordinating the defense. "This is not the moment to test whether wardiron makes you invincible against sixty trained soldiers."Bran obeyed, though every instinct screamed against standing aside while others fought, wardiron drawn and ready despite Rathorn's order. Cole stood at his shoulder moments later, blade already bloodied from some earlier combat Bran hadn't witnessed."They breached the outer perimeter," Cole gasped. "Small group, testing our response before the main force commits fully.""How bad?""We have three wounded on our side

Rathorn convened the full council within the hour. The captured rider's testimony had made one thing clear: Darrow wasn't planning to break the valley's walls. He was planning to outlast its people."A siege of patience rather than force," Councilor Vane said grimly, studying the rationing figures Yara had prepared. "That's a considerably harder problem than sixty riders at our gate. We can fight soldiers. We cannot fight hunger with swords.""We can fight it with rationing, careful management, and time," Rathorn said. "Assuming Darrow's patience doesn't outlast our supplies, which is precisely the calculation he's betting we'll lose."Bran sat near the room's edge, one hand pressed flat against his knee to keep it from bouncing, listening to officials debate how many weeks the valley could stretch its remaining stores before children went hungry, before the elderly grew weak, before the careful defiance that had sustained the Ashcourt's resistance began cracking under simple, cruel a

On the third day, Talia showed up as promised, but even before she said a word, Bran could tell everything about her and her two companions: they were worn out, scraped, and one of them had a leg wound that was hastily covered with ripped fabric. Unable to focus on anything else, Bran had spent the better part of the morning outside the gate. His relief at seeing her standing and walking on her own two feet almost overshadowed his anxiety over the news she could bring. Despite his cautious demeanor, Rathorn was clearly relieved to meet them at the gate.”You're early”Talia accepted water from a waiting guard and added, "We found what we needed faster than expected," before moving on. "A single staging post, about a day's ride northeast, is where Darrow's supply line passes. He replenished his men on a set schedule from a renovated trading post that was lightly guarded."How lightly guarded?" Cole asked, already making his way toward the war room with the others in behind. His pace was

When the rescue party returned, the valley exploded into cautious celebration, but Bran was unable to completely participate. He saw the eleven released inmates being led past the inner courtyard toward heated soup and medical attention as he stood close to the western gatehouse. Every face surrounding him was a battleground between relief and sheer tiredness. Wrapped in thick woollen blankets, the men and women who had held Ashcourt's colours in Darrow's wet holding cells now stood motionless, their eyes wide with the confusion of unexpected liberation. However, Bran's attention was still fixed on the chilly weight by his side.Rathorn stepped up next to him and stated, "You disobeyed direct orders back there." His dark eyes had an unwavering clarity, yet his voice was more weary acknowledgement than actual rage.Before the perimeter was secured, you left your designated support post and went to the inmates' building.""I know," Bran whispered, his throat constricted. He kept his eyes