Page 284 of Salt Between the Wolves

A corner of Kael's mouth twitched. "They're armed."

Not surprising.

"Organized."

Also not surprising.

"Moving quickly."

Soren waited while Kael took his time, clearly enjoying it deliberately. Eventually Soren set the cup down.

"If you intend to become mysterious in your age, I can arrange for someone else to command the warriors."

"You're in an excellent mood this morning."

"Kael."

His sceond finally relented. "There are eighteen riders."

Soren nodded once. "A small escort."

"Yes."

Not raiders, not merchants, not soldiers—something else.

"What banner?"

Kael's expression shifted very slightly, but it was enough.

"None."

Soren frowned. No banner meant a choice, a deliberate anonymity that made him trust the situation even less.

"Where are they now?"

"Less than two hours away."

The answer settled heavily, closer than he expected and closer than he liked.

Outside the tent, voices drifted through the camp—the ordinary sounds of another morning, yet something beneath them felt different. Word had spread; people always noticed when something new happened, especially after nine days of nothing.

Kael stood. "Should I send another patrol?"

"No," the answer came immediately.

Kael raised an eyebrow as Soren rose as well.

"If they're that close, another patrol accomplishes nothing."

"You intend to meet them yourself."

Not a question, but a statement.

"Yes."

Kael studied him, then nodded. It was reasonable, even expected; a commander could not ignore unknown riders approaching a military camp, no matter who they were.

Half an hour later Soren left White Pass with six mounted warriors. Snow covered the road, the sky remained gray, and the mountains watched in silence.