Chapter 10: The Ash Ford

We reached the Ash Ford at dusk, with Eira and sixty of the Ninth riding hard behind us.

The river ran black and shallow over its flat grey stones.

On the far bank, torches burned.

A hundred Chancellery guards in grey stood in ranks, with their crossbows loaded.

In the middle of them, on his knees in the mud, was Jorund Segrave.

They had chained him in silver.

I saw the white burn lines on his wrists and neck from three hundred yards away.

His head hung forward, and his black hair stuck to his skin in the damp.

Six dead Redmoor riders lay on the bank beside him.

Caelan swore under his breath, steadily.

Eira pulled up at my left, shaking with rage.

"General, there's a hundred of them.

"We've got sixty."

"I can count."

"We can't take them."

"I know."

"Then what do we do?"

I handed my reins to her.

I slid out of the saddle and walked down the muddy slope to the water.

"Brenna," Caelan said.

"Wait."

"Stay behind me."

"Brenna, you promised me you wouldn't."

"I promised I wouldn't use it on you."

I waded in up to my knees, the cold water soaking my boots, and raised my hand.

"Captain of the guard!"

The line of grey stirred.

A man on a tall horse rode forward, a hard-faced veteran in a plain helm, with a crossbow across his saddle.

He stopped at the waterline and looked me up and down.

"General Furnival."

"Release Alpha Segrave."

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