The Valdris wall was bigger than the map had made it look.
Nathan lay on his stomach at the top of the last hill and looked down at it. It ran east and west as far as he could see, grey stone, about forty feet high. There were towers every few hundred yards, each with a single lantern burning at the top. Between the towers, soldiers walked along the top of the wall in pairs.
"They didn't have this many before," Gerald said quietly. He was lying next to him, his healed arm tucked under his chin. "When I was a boy, there were two men to a tower, and half the time they were asleep."
"How many now?"
Gerald counted under his breath. "Six. Maybe eight."
Faen was on Nathan's other side, watching the wall without blinking. "They are not talking to each other," he said.
