Page 56 of Of Iron and Moonlight

That night, Kora sat by her window for a time, letting the cool air clear her thoughts. The day replayed itself in a scatter of images before settling on Duncan in the doorway, as though the sight of her in the classroom had eased something in him.

To her surprise, it had eased something in her as well.

Not everything. Only enough to loosen the fear.

She extinguished the candle and slipped beneath the quilt. Again she listened for footsteps, counted breaths, traced the stillness. But what had gnawed at her the night before had dulled, the old knot of fear tightening for a moment, then failing to hold. If he came, she decided, she would meet him confidently and without shrinking, as a wife.

But he did not come that night.

Nor the next.

Chapter 29

Duncan

Duncan tossed the dispatch onto his desk and dragged his hands down his face. He had read it twice and still could not make sense of it. The chanting of moonpriests drifting through the window did nothing to assist the effort.

“Your men intercepted more letters?” he asked, resting his head against the arm braced on his chair, already turning to the next problem. Cursed Goldfire. He had been back in Lemierre only a week and was already exhausted.

“More, and messier,” Garric said bluntly, taking the chair opposite. Though it was early, the hollows beneath his eyes suggested he had not slept. “He wants us chasing shadows while he chooses where to cut.”

“How do you mean?”

“The letters mention countless villages, towns, and even cities as potential targets.” Garric sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “In both Ardennesse and Devrough.”

“Even Trivolen, Alewyn and Grayhollyn?” Duncan asked skeptically. “They are the largest cities in Ardennesse and hold the richest iron seams.”

“Yes.” Garric folded his arms across his narrow chest. “In recent years Valdir has limited himself to smaller raids, smaller towns. This year, he appears to be growing bolder.”

Duncan frowned. “Have your thoughts changed regarding Devrough?”

“It remains a credible aim,” Garric said after a moment. “Eastern cliffs and Shipwreck Sea deny Kryovarre reliable ports for trade. Controlling Ardenna Bay, and passage through it, would serve him well.”

“You still do not believe Devrough is where he means to strike,” Duncan concluded, hearing the hesitation in the answer.

A knock sounded.

“Enter.”

Osric stepped in with a ledger against his chest, looking as though he had slept, but already used up whatever good it had done him. “Forgive the interruption,” he said, “but the Moonwarden is prepared to begin.”

Duncan shared a baffled look with Garric.

“Aye,” Osric said, reading it at once. “The moon day feels ill-timed, with trouble so near. But the people need joy. They need to believe new beginnings are possible.”

Duncan covered his mouth with his hand, buying himself a moment. To admit that he dreaded Goldfire for reasons entirely unrelated to war felt ungracious, given that sentiment.

Garric rose, tapping the table to draw Duncan back. “I will ride to Kryovarre tomorrow to confirm Valdir’s numbers. Before I go, shall I have Bran pull the musters from Devrough to Ardennesse?”

Duncan considered the morning’s reports as they unfolded into possibility.

“Leave them where they are.”

Garric nodded and turned for the door, then paused. “One more thing. I suggest you meet with Nelsyn. Kryovarre has already sent a few probing attacks into Ardennesse. Small, but enough to worry him.”

“I will see to it,” Osric said, striving for brightness.

“Thank you, both,” Duncan said, pushing to his feet. “And Garric—get some sleep.” He skimmed the last correspondence on his desk. “I will be along shortly, Ossy. Would you wake my wife, please?”