Chapter 7: The Writ

I walked into the courtyard with my braid still undone and Caelan's coat over my shoulders.

Four thousand soldiers had mustered without being told.

They stood in ranks in the pale light, silent, and every face turned toward me.

The Chancellor's herald waited on a grey horse by the gate, with a tall bodyguard and a leather tube in his gloved hand.

He was a plump man in a velvet cap.

He looked down at me.

"General Furnival."

"Herald."

"By the Chancellor's authority, and in the name of the king, I carry a writ of bonding."

He slid a scroll from the tube.

"It requires you to name Alpha Jorund Segrave as your mate by sunset today, and to sign here."

"The Trial has thirty days."

"The Chancellor has judged the Trial dissolved."

A murmur went through the ranks.

"He can't dissolve it," Eira hissed, at my elbow.

"The law says only the woman who names it can end it."

"I know the law."

"Sign, General," the herald said, softly.

"Please.

"The Chancellor was most anxious that this be easy."

He held out the writ and a pen.

I took the writ.

It was good paper, thick and cream, with the king's old seal and the Chancellor's neat black script.

I read it through twice, slowly, while four thousand people held their breath.

"This says Alpha Segrave's pack will lose its grazing rights if I refuse," I said.

"That is a standard clause."

"It says my Host will be dispersed within the week."

"For your protection."

"It says I have no say."

"The law says what it says, General."

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