As the Carthun army marched south from the capital, the land around them turned from rolling farmlands and pastures to rocky cliffs, and the sound of crashing waves filled the air. A tall black tower that resembled the one on House Theon’s emblem loomed in the distance to their right, towering over the surrounding countryside. It was built from a strange black stone that was as black as pitch and was unsettling to behold.

It was called the Black Tower of Loton and it was already standing before the kingdom of Carthus existed, back when these lands were in the clutches of the Dark One. The tower was said to have been built by Archava, the God of War himself as an outpost to monitor the followers of the Dark One’s activities and as a redoubt for those faithful to Them in the area.

It had been the sole Carthun holdout in the Flemlands during the Hulvan Betrayal. Theon men had spotted the Hulvan incursion across the Narrows from the top of the Black Tower and Uriel Theon, Victor’s father, had sallied forth, hoping to delay them in the rocky terrain. However, his tiny force had been crushed, and Victor Theon became lord of the Flemlands at the age of just fifteen.

Tim noted that the sun was low in the sky, and the blisters on his feet caused him to wince with every step he took. Horatio had been unable to secure horses for the boys and they had marched more than seventy miles over the last five days. The march over the last day seemed to be almost entirely uphill over rocky ground. Tim watched the backs of the lords on horseback in front of him and desperately wanted to ask if they would be stopping soon, but they were deep in discussion, and he knew that he could not interrupt them.

Horatio seemed to sense Tim’s distress and glanced at him over his shoulder. “We will be arriving at the Narrows soon. We’ll stop for the night there.”

Tim heard Eric heave a sigh of relief next to him and decided to goad his friend. “Have you gotten used to riding about on a horse like a lord, Eric?”

“Nonsense,” Eric scoffed. “I’m just feeling a little sore. We’ve come a long way, after all.”

“We’ll have longer to go,” Arthur warned. “Estos is almost two hundred miles from the Narrows.”

Tim suppressed a groan and wondered if his feet would be little more than bloodied stumps by the time they arrived at the Hulvan City. As they crested a rise, Tim’s breath was taken away by the sight before him. Just ahead was a rocky finger of land just over half a mile wide and three miles long. On either side, down sheer cliffs over a hundred feet tall was a raging sea over the eons. Violent waves crashed furiously against the rocky cliffs, slowly carving out gouges in the rockface. This natural bridge that connected the Carthun peninsula to the mainland was known as the Narrows.

A pair of walls spanned the width of the Narrows on either side. Each wall had a ruined gate in the middle that belied the ferocity of the fighting that had taken place here in recent years. In times of peace, both kingdoms placed only a token number of men at the gates of each wall. The Hulvans had overrun the Carthun wall easily, having achieved complete surprise during the Betrayal and stories of the bloody battle to breach the Hulvan side during the Carthun counteroffensive had reached even the remote town of Potter’s Hollow.

Tim tried to imagine crossing the open, rocky terrain under constant arrow and missile fire from the Hulvan side only to be confronted with the imposing looking wall sent a shudder down Tim’s spine. He muttered quiet thanks to the men of the first army for helping them clear the way.

“If you think that’s intimidating, wait until you see the walls of Estos,” Emily said softly.

As they descended the slope towards the fortress on the Carthun side of the Narrows, Tim noticed men assembled on the rocky open ground just beyond the wall. There were thousands of them, and he assumed they were the remnants of the first army. What caught his eye was fifty or so men who appeared to tower over those around them, making them look like small children in comparison.

“Something about that doesn’t look right,” Tim remarked as he peered at them, using his hand to shield the sun from his eyes.

“Those are the men from the northern tribes of Enris,” Horatio explained. “They are formidable warriors who worship Archava. They came to our lands to escape religious persecution and have pledged fealty to…”

“To you, Lord Carver,” Arthur grinned when Horatio’s voice trailed off.

Tim blinked. “When did they arrive in Carthus?”

“Oh, around eight years ago,” Horatio mused.

“Wasn’t that before you were made a lord?” Tim pointed out.

“It was,” Emily said. “They initially settled in my father’s lands and swore fealty to him but left his service after my brother’s disgrace at Fort Cromford.”

As they drew closer to the Carthun fort, the huge North Men began marching out to meet them. The shortest among them stood over seven feet tall and each was clad in heavy armour and carried in one hand huge weapons that a normal man would struggle to carry in two. They also carried enormous kite shields across their backs that were almost as tall as Eric was.

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One of them, a man who towered over even his North Man peers strode forward, propelled by muscular legs that were thicker than a young tree. He had shoulder length blonde hair and a thick beard to match and was armed with an enormous great sword that stood almost as tall as he did. As Horatio brought the army to a halt, the man bowed his head.

“Lord Carver, my men and I are at your service,” his voice was deep and rich, and there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Thank you, Norland,” Horatio said formally. “Your men will be invaluable in the attack on Estos.”

Norland grinned. “We came close to blows with Lord Ferdinand’s men when I told them we would go no further than the Narrows during the first invasion.”

Horatio nodded. “So I’d heard. Perhaps things would have been different if you had been there at Estos.”

Norland shrugged casually. “I did warn them that we would follow no one but Horatio Thacker across the Narrows. It was just as well, eh? The Hulvans beat a hasty retreat when we came out to meet them after your boys got thrashed and ran all the way back here.”

“I heard that as well,” Horatio said and frowned. “How many Hulvans were pursuing our men?”

“I’d guess around four thousand,” the huge man replied.

“It is curious that they didn’t press the attack on the Narrows,” Horatio mused. “Our morale had broken, and we never did repair the gate.”

“Perhaps they were just too intimidated by our sudden appearance,” Norland pointed out.

“Perhaps,” Horatio allowed. “On the other hand, I heard the fighting at Estos was fierce…”

“What’s on your mind, Thacker?” Norland asked.

Horatio shook his head. “Just thinking out loud. Did one of my men pass through the gate a few days ago?”

“There was a thin man who came by two days ago. A suspicious looking fellow who looked like he was up to no good. Insisted that he was working under you directly, but I didn’t buy it,” Norland recalled. “I had my boys throw him into a cell, but he escaped in the night.”

“That sounds like my man, alright,” Horatio remarked. “I hope your boys didn’t rough him up too badly.”

“They might have, you little people are so fragile.” Norland let off a hearty laugh. “All’s well that ends well, I suppose.”

Horatio nodded and turned his attention to the men assembled at the fort. “Are they ready to march?”

“They can leave now if you want,” Norland offered. “The boys are itching for battle. Breaching the Narrows got their blood boiling and they’ve done little but watch others march off to war since.”

Tim watched Horatio stroke his beard thoughtfully and silently begged him to give the order to make camp for the night as he had initially planned.

At length, Horatio shook his head. “No, the men have been marching all day, and we are about to enter enemy territory. We will depart in the morning.”

Tim and Eric exhaled in unison, making Tim realize that he had been holding his breath. He then exchanged sheepish looks with his friend.

“Tell the men to make camp for the night,” Horatio ordered.

Tim and Eric hurried off to pitch their tent with the other common soldiers before Horatio changed his mind.

“I’m going to skip dinner and just go straight to sleep if it’s all the same to you,” Tim remarked as they found a quiet corner in the rocky terrain. He looked up to see the nobles riding down towards the fort.

“I know how you feel,” Eric said tiredly. “But I fear I won’t be able to walk a single step tomorrow if I don’t get something in my stomach.”

“I suppose we could bake some bread,” Tim allowed.

The boys had been taught how to make army bread by the old hands who were marching with them. It wasn’t particularly tasty, but it was quick to make and filled their bellies, which made it perfect for them. Just then, the wind changed and carried with it the smell of roasted meat up from the fort. Eric’s stomach growled.

“Perhaps we should have offered to act as serving boys,” Eric said sheepishly. “We would have gotten food in our belly by the end of the night if nothing else.”

Tim shook his head. “You can try your luck if you want, but the last thing I want to do is spend all night listening to Lord Brandon’s war stories.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Eric conceded and looked up at the clear, cloudless sky. “It doesn’t look like it’ll rain tonight. What say we sleep under the stars?”

Tim looked up and frowned. “No, we’d better pitch our tent. You know what a stickler old Horatio is about these things.”

“Or,” Eric said as a mischievous look crossed his face. “We could sleep on our bedrolls behind those rocks over there and he will be none the wiser.”

Tim gave the house sized boulders off in the distance a look and frowned. It was tempting, but… “Why don’t you just pitch our tent and I’ll get started on dinner?”

“Hey boys, trade you some of our bread for your flour.” Tim looked up to see one of the older hands in Lord Victor’s army offering him half a loaf of bread.

“Our cook overestimated our appetites,” the man continued. “We can’t eat as much as you youngins at our age and it’d be a shame for it to go to waste.”

Tim gave the bread a suspicious look and the man frowned. “You’re cautious, that’s commendable. You can try it first before you agree to the trade.”

Eric tore a chunk off and stuffed it into his mouth. “It’s good,” he said with his mouth full of bread.

Tim shrugged and poured some flour into the man’s pouch.

“Pleasure doing business with you, boys,” he said with a wry grin. He began to walk away but stopped and turned around. “Oh, and a word from the wise. If you’re going to sleep somewhere hidden, make sure you hear the mustering horn. They’re not going to hold up an army of ten thousand to go looking for the two of you.”

Tim lowered his head to hide his embarrassment and Eric sang, “Thanks for the advice, mister.”

Eric turned to his friend and offered him the bread. “So, how about it?”

Tim’s legs were numb and the devil in him told him to do whatever it took to get to sleep as quickly as possible. “Fine.”

The boys quickly checked that there were no officers on patrol before running over to the rocks where they wolfed down the bread and laid out their bedrolls in record time.

“Remember Eric, keep an ear out for the mustering horn,” Tim warned but the only reply he received was his friend’s soft snores.

Tim checked the position of the sun as he lay down in his bedroll. There were roughly two hours before sunset, and they were likely to depart at dawn which meant they could sleep for almost half a day. Plenty of time to get some much needed rest, Tim thought to himself as he settled into his bedroll. He was asleep before his head touched the ground.