By the time my new Squire and I reached the gates of the Bastion, Tarus was starting his journey below the horizon. The yard of my fortress in the lower circle of Blutstein was bathed in the colors of the sunset, illuminating the hive of activity that had overtaken it.

  Because it was busy.

  The grounds that the Bastion was built on weren’t exactly small, and they suddenly seemed filled to the absolute brim with new people. Everywhere I looked, I could see wagon upon wagon of people being helped down from their transportation by the members of my Order. There had to be well over three dozen of them that I could see, just from where I stood in the gates. Walter and I had to rapidly move out of the way, though, when another cart full of people arrived, trundling its way over the cobblestone to come to a halt inside.

  Hundreds.

  Hundreds of people had arrived here. Maybe even well over a thousand. The sound of them all filled the air. The chattering of the crowds as they marveled at the construction of the Bastion, the raised voices of my officers as they tried to direct people to suitable resting places, and the creaking and groaning of the wagons as they were unloaded. Meager belongings and what looked to be supplies were rapidly stacking up in large crates, here at the heart of the Order of the Polaris Reach.

  Maybe it was just my imagination…but I couldn’t help but think their voices were tinged with hope.

  “What…” I heard Walter whisper to himself. “What’s going on here?”

  I turned to the younger man and smiled at him. “I told you. There’s work to be done, which I think you’ll appreciate. These,” I said, sweeping out an arm over the chaos. “Are just a portion of all the slaves an old friend of ours has freed in the Principality.”

  I saw it as realization stole across his face. After a moment, he laughed helplessly to himself and made the sign of the Gyre with his hands. “Bless you, Bleddyn…” He whispered.

  Speaking of…I didn’t see the guest that Bait had informed me of anywhere. My best guess was that he had been escorted inside to minimize the risk that unfriendly eyes would fall upon him. Quickly flagging down one of my officers, I was told that all of my remaining Captains in the city, along with my Commander, were holed up in the central meeting room. Thanking him, I strode across the field toward the main building.

  As I did so, I became aware of eyes falling on me. After all, these days I wasn’t trying to hide from attention, especially with the brightly colored blue and red coat I went around in. Whispers among the refugees reached my ears as they asked the Order members helping them who I was. I was…a little uncomfortable at the level of near worship I saw in their gazes. I wasn’t even the person who had freed them.

  I tried to put it out of my mind as I led Walter into the main building. I found that it wasn’t any calmer once inside, as the halls of the fortress were packed with people as well. Those who needed medical attention, which was apparently more than a few, were being directed to bed by the harried forms of my Healers. Those who had children were getting preference to wait in private rooms while they were sorted, all the while, people were in and out of the doors as supplies from the caravan were stored in our storage. Walter and I had to dodge more than one crate-carrying laborer as they tottered inside. The two of us edged our way through the chaos until we reached the stairs that led to the central tower. Once there, the guard who was keeping our new guests away from the upper levels saluted me and let us pass. I didn’t miss the curious glance he shot Walter, though. I’m sure word would spread around the ranks about the strange teenager who was following me around now.

  Blessed silence greeted me as the door to the stairwell closed behind us. As it did, Walter shook his head in amazement. “So many people…”

  I huffed a short laugh as we climbed the central staircase to the meeting room. “I don’t think that’s even a third of them all, honestly,” I told him, as we came to a stop before the doors. “There’s more waiting to be escorted down here.”

  As Walter gaped at me in shock, I pressed one hand onto the double doors before me and pushed. I was greeted with the sight of a relatively small room, here in the Bastion. It was little more than a space for the impressively sized circular table I had insisted act as the center point of our meetings. Some cabinets dotted the walls, and a trio of barred, rectangular windows were set on the far wall, each of their shutters currently closed to protect the identity of the VIP within. Considering that Azarus, Alex, and Liora were out of the city at the moment, the representatives of the Order within were fewer than they usually were. Isolde was here as my second in command, hunched over the large, detailed map we’d commissioned of the continent, spreading over nearly the entire surface of the table. Maria was standing next to her, rubbing her chin in what looked to be troubled thought, while Renauld was busy at one of the cabinets in the back. I…think the Gnollish head of my Healers was preparing himself a drink.

  Which didn’t bode well.

  However, by far who drew my attention the most was our very special guest. The man who was currently standing on the opposite side of the table from Isolde, with his arms crossed over his broad chest, and a frown on his chiseled cheeks.

  Bleddyn.

  Even though Bait had already informed me of his presence, it was still a shock to see the man. Especially after how long it had been, and especially because he was nominally a peer of mine, as the leader of an entire resistance movement. My clone had been incredibly surprised at the sight of the man, from up in our office only a floor above where we were. He had immediately popped himself to inform me.

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  And now that I saw him with my own two eyes…

  My old friend looked different. More dangerous, for one.

  Bleddyn had put on some serious muscle in the year or so since I’d seen him. He had already been a fairly well-built man, but now he looked like someone strolling off a barbarian novel’s book cover. His thick-set frame had muscles upon muscles, leading to the son of the Calonawr almost appearing like a professional bodybuilder. The Barber had always been a tall man, but if anything, I think he might have grown a few inches. He’d also allowed his inky black hair to grow out, the thick locks now falling around his perfectly chiseled features like a mop. In addition, he bore a beard now, too, something closely cut within inches of his skin. And yet, somehow…

  I could see how he had been surviving within the forests and countryside of the Principality. There was something about how he bore himself, a hint of ferality to the man that indicated he could disappear into the woods at a moment's notice. Only to spring back out and tear your throat asunder with his bare hands. Even in simple brown leathers and a concealing grey cloak, he cut an imposing figure. I could well imagine how hundreds to thousands of people had flocked to his banner.

  Even then…the moment his sky blue eyes fell on me, they lit up in pleased recognition. That made me pretty happy, I had to say.

  Despite all my own changes, and despite looking barely human myself these days…

  My old friend still recognized me.

  “Nate!” Bleddyn’s familiar voice boomed in the small confines of the room. On the far side of the room, I could see Renauld jump in place at the sound, accidentally spilling the drink he had made for himself. But my attention was soon taken away from the Gnoll. With only a few large strides, Bleddyn crossed the space between us and grabbed my right forearm in a tight warrior’s grip. Once upon a time, I think I would have been driven to my knees in pain at the force he was subjecting my limb to.

  But now, I just thought it was tight. I met the massive grin on his lips with one of my own. “Bleddyn! The hell are you doing here?!”

  In response, Bleddyn threw his head back and barked a laugh. “Happy to see ye too!” He chortled. “And what the bleedin’ hell do you think I’m doin’? I’m here to see that all the slaves me people sweat and died to free are escorted safely! Well, that and see this new Order o’ yours,” Bleddyn admitted, before a broad grin stole over his face. “Gotta say, this is a nice place ye’ve got here, Nate! Mighty fine indeed…for a lowlander!”

  As he laughed again, I shook my head at his antics. It occurred to me, then, that I had never known Bleddyn in any way except under the shadow of slavery. Back then, the man had been a bit…dour at times. He’d always been violently, viscously angry about the collar around his neck, and the bond stealing his hard-won strength. At times, it had seemed like he hardly cared about the consequences to himself, as long as he could spit in the eye of those who had enslaved him. It had nearly gotten him tortured to death by Magnus, and it did cost him one of his own eyes.

  Well.

  Briefly.

  I think, though, that when he had his freedom…

  Bleddyn might just be a pretty gregarious guy. Not unexpected, for a man who had the blood of a wolf running through his veins.

  They were social animals, after all. I should know.

  “Yes, thank you,” I said dryly. “I’m quite fond of it myself, considering the mountains and mountains of gold and effort I’ve poured into this Order.”

  Over Bleddyn’s shoulder, I saw Isolde stop admiring Bleddyn’s…backside long enough to clear her throat pointedly.

  Yes, yes, I get the idea.

  Bleddyn seemed to as well, and when I inclined my head to the table, he graciously followed me over to a chair. I spoke when not only had he and I sat down, but everyone else as well. “I’d formally welcome you to the Lowerstone Bastion, but I suspect you wouldn’t much care.”

  “Ye know me so well, Nate,” Bleddyn grinned. “Nah, I’d prefer to get right to the bones o’ things. We got some stuff to talk about.”

  I made a considering noise, my eyes sliding to the map still spread across the table. “Does it have anything to do with what you four were doing when I got here?”

  I saw Isolde grimace off to my right. “Partly.”

  “Mostly,” Maria piped up cheekily from the other side of the table. Isolde just shot her a foul glance in response.

  “Mostly,” My Commander allowed grudgingly. “It…has to do with news from the Principality.”

  Well, that didn’t sound good. Very little good ever seemed to happen in Dwarven lands.

  “Alright, hit me,” I sighed.

  “The Great Houses have officially chosen their sides, in their growing civil war,” Isolde answered, her frown only growing. “And it’s…kind of a mixed bag.”

  “The Orsini fell in with us eventually, after some in-fightin’,” Bleddyn said irritably, drumming his thick fingers on the desk. “There were some downright polite purges internally with ‘em, as the youngbloods executed a coup over the older leadership who were draggin’ their feet. Let me tell ye, there were a huge wave of desertions from people more loyal to their House than the Army, when all was said and done. But the Orsini publicly allied themselves with the Unshackled after that. That’s all well and good, considerin’ they control most of the damn Army. But the rest of those fuckers declared for the Savoy.”

  “That…” I said slowly, a frown growing on my face. “Doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not,” Isolde said grimly. “That leaves the Savoy, the Venier, and the Luminarans on the pro-slavery side.”

  “Which just leaves the Florens and what’s left of the Orsini to back those of us who desire freedom,” Bleddyn growled. “This all went down only a week or so before I left. It took us two weeks to get here.”

  “Meaning you’ll have been gone for nearly a month before you get back to the Principality,” I frowned at him. “You shouldn’t be here. Your place is with your men, Bleddyn. We can handle the refugees, as you can see.”

  “Aye, ye can,” Bleddyn nodded easily. “But I trust me own Commanders. They can handle things while I’m gone, especially considering the fightin’ hasn’t really started yet. See, the Dwarves have this thing,” He said, pointing at me. “They can’t just start outright fightin’ if it’s gonna be war. They’ve gotta meet in their capital, and sign a ‘War Declaration’, even if it’s among themselves. They’ve set a meetin’ for it some weeks from now when the scroll will be signed. Up till then everyone is just gathering troops and supplies for when things really kick off. Not just that…but I’m here for something more important than a few extra weeks to prepare.”

  I exchanged a glance with Isolde at that, to see that my Commander had an equally perplexed look on her face. I guess he hadn’t said anything about this to her, yet. “What could possibly be more important than that?”

  The smile that grew on Bleddyn’s lips, then, was downright feral. Bloodthirsty, even. “Why, I’m gonna ask the Regent to step into the war on our side.”

  “And he’s gonna say yes.”