Chapter 6: The Cold Fork

The Cold Fork ran black and fast between its banks, and Stonewater's warriors stood on the wrong side of it.

They stood in a long line on the King's bank, forty of them, in the grey light before moonrise, with Torin in front.

Ronan had brought sixty wardens, and they did not draw a weapon.

They did not need to.

I had asked to ride with them, and Ronan had said no.

I had said, "I'm a ward, not a prisoner," and that was the end of it.

I stood at his left side with my hands folded.

"King Greaves," Torin called across the frozen ground. "I'll keep this short. My Luna is in your house against her will. I've come to take her home."

"She isn't against her will," said Ronan. "She told you so from my wall."

"She's confused. She's carrying a great deal."

He was too pale.

I noticed it as he spoke, and I noticed his hand at his side, opening and closing.

I thought it was rage.

Torin's voice was the same warm voice it had always been, but it didn't roll across the water.

It sounded like a man's voice, and only that.

"You crossed the Cold Fork a second time," Ronan said. "That's a second debt."

"Then name your price, and I'll pay it."

"I've named it. It's standing next to me."

The wind shifted.

It came down off the mountain behind us and across the field and into Torin's face.

I felt it lift my braid.

Torin stopped talking.

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