That night I barely slept. I walked the battlements instead, checking sentries and staring north. The distant pinpricks of enemy fires looked closer. The alignment loomed. Five days until that woman tried to rip the future from my body through my children.
Dawn on the fourth day brought news from Darius. They had struck hard at the pass. Heavy casualties on the northern side. Their momentum broken again.
But Darius had taken a wound to his sword arm. Nothing life-threatening, the messenger assured me, yet the words still landed like stones in my gut.
I pushed the fear down and kept working. The keep transformed hour by hour. Traps lined the approach. Cauldrons of oil waited above the gates. Archers practiced their angles until shots flew true even in darkness.
I trained with the women myself, pushing through the pain in my side, letting them see their queen bleed and keep standing.
