"I don't think it works that way," Reynold said with a light chuckle. "I wish it did."
Tybal Aleese was already struggling to accept a new order in things, or the idea that there was any kind of accounting due for the skirmishes he'd fought with the High Lord's horde over the years. From Tybal's perspective, there'd been blood spilled on both sides, and both sides had tacitly agreed to keep their conflicts small, refraining from sowing widespread devastation, raising villages to the ground, or engaging in unrestrained slaughter.
That, in Tybal's mind, should have bought him the right to bury any grievances that might have existed between his family and the Eldritch people of the Southern Steppe. Unfortunately, according to Lady Ashlynn, things didn't work that way for the Eldritch. The dead demanded justice, and the warriors of the Southern Steppe who had fallen as far back as the Second Crusade had never received their due.
