Once again, she dreamt of her sister. She was standing still, but unlike before, she wasn't small and harmless. They weren't in the courtyard of the kingdom where they usually lived, even though neither her mother nor her father were noble. They weren’t children anymore. Her sister was taller and more beautiful than she, but she looked at Silvia with disapproval. She had seen that look before, specifically on the night Silvia told her they might be seeing each other for the last time. Silvia knew why she dreamt of her now—because the memory of her sister had lodged itself in her mind like a nail and constantly haunted her. One of the things she would never forgive herself for was abandoning her. She loved her parents too, but she didn't regret leaving them. Even when she returned and they no longer accepted her, she still loved them and had no regrets. But she did regret leaving her sister. Her sister had been more delicate, more sensitive, and she cried often. She cried over everything. She cried when Silvia left. She cried when she returned, though by then her sister had to leave. And she never saw her again except in dreams like the one now.

  Her sister stood there, staring at her with that same look. Silvia ran toward her, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn't get closer. She stopped suddenly. Her sister raised her hand and waved. Now, she smiled. Silvia smiled too. Something inside her felt at peace. She had forgiven her. That was the most important thing—that her sister forgave her.

  A sharp pain in her leg brought Silvia to her knees. Now she really couldn’t reach her sister. She was on her knees, and her sister turned her back and walked away. Silvia wanted to stop her, tried to lift her hand to do so, but she couldn’t. All she could do was watch her sister enter the kingdom, heading into the castle of Chernoval—the place where Silvia had last left her. Two horses followed her sister. They were probably white, though Silvia couldn’t quite remember. She tried to follow, but the pain in her leg was unbearable. Her legs felt as if stone blocks were tied to them.

  After another effort, she awoke. She wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the pain, but she knew she had been dreaming. The pain was the only real thing; everything else was just a dream.

  She squinted in the dark. There were windows, but only moonlight entered the small room where she was. The moonlight was enough to reveal everything in the tiny space, but her eyes hurt a little—perhaps from sleep, or because they had been closed for so long. She also felt a pain in her head. She blinked several times to clear the grit from her eyes. She was seated on a chair, with her hands tied behind her back to the chair’s backrest. She couldn’t feel anything else in the room behind her; there was only a wall. But in front of her, someone was there.

  “Who are you?”

  She could only see the bare crown of his head. Then, his eyes glinted. He seemed like a strong man. When light flickered from somewhere, it shaped his muscles. She saw he had no beard, his face was clean-shaven. His skin, mostly bare, glistened as if damp. Probably sweat. It was stuffy here, despite the stone walls. Before answering, the man straightened in his chair and leaned back. He was holding something in his hands—a knife. He was running his thumb along the blade.

  “Where am I?” Silvia asked again without waiting for an answer to her previous question. But from the look of the man before her, she didn’t expect one.

  She remembered little. She recalled wandering the streets of Mungard—that’s what the place was called, Mungard. She had come with Riven. Where was Riven? Then they met Elera. Oh, how she hated her right now. Elera. Elera, who always brought trouble whenever she appeared. It was the same now. Then the streets, the dark streets, and that whore. The whore she had killed. Or had she? Did they know? Did this man in front of her know about the whore? Or had they captured her for something else? And those in the stable? Who were they? She hadn’t killed any of them—Riven had. Riven. Oh, how she missed Riven now.

  “The master said to guard.”

  The hulking man stood up. He wore only a loincloth to cover his male parts. Everywhere else, he was naked. His face didn’t seem ordinary, but Silvia attributed that to the moonlight streaming in. When he got closer, she saw it was a normal man’s face, though a bit broad, sagging, and thick. Thick as if all his body fat was concentrated there.

  “To guard me from what?”

  “No questions.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The master said no questions.”

  “Are you stupid?”

  “Shhh.” His thick fingers pressed against his lips. He had raised his hand, and the knife was in it.

  He was stupid. As strong as he was, he was that stupid. A familiar combination. If he were smart, they wouldn’t have left him just to guard. So she wasn’t particularly surprised. Instead, she decided to provoke him.

  “Go ahead, ugly, kill me.”

  He backed away, seemingly frightened.

  “I won’t kill you,” he replied, the first coherent sentence he had spoken.

  “Then let me go.”

  The big man looked behind him, toward the door to the hall. No one was coming in, but he seemed afraid of someone. He was strong but simple-minded. And he could barely speak. As if he had only recently learned to talk. She had only seen one other person like him. He had been a barbarian, learning to speak the common tongue. He had sounded much the same. It wasn’t uncommon to kidnap barbarians for local purposes. And this one, they had clearly chosen well. He might not speak, but he certainly instilled fear.

  Silvia tried to stand. The big man approached but didn’t do anything. He didn’t even touch her. She sat back down on her own. He was at least twice, if not three times, her size. When he saw she was calm, he retreated.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Nero,” he answered quickly, as if he had been waiting for someone to ask.

  “All right, Nero. My name is Silvia.”

  He continued to stare at her blankly, as before.

  “What’s your master’s name?” She knew he had one. There was no way this brute could run anything more than his empty head.

  Nero turned around, looked around, then looked back at her and answered, “Oryk.”

  “Oryk?” She repeated after him, trying to remain calm. “Where is this Oryk now?”

  “There,” he pointed at the door behind him.

  At times, he seemed like a baby. And he acted like one. Nero turned his gaze back to her, but now he seemed irritated. He jumped and swung the knife at her. He was far enough away not to hit her, but still, it was threatening. The air from his swing lightly tousled her hair. Silvia was frightened. She hadn’t expected that. Her eyes had adjusted. She could see more of the room now.

  There was a noise behind the door to the large hall. Someone shouted. Then there was a thud, followed by something slamming against the door. Nero jumped and headed that way. Silvia decided to stay put. She could have used the commotion, but she didn’t. It wasn’t the best moment. And there was only one door. Where could she go? She was tied up. Maybe her legs were free, but she didn’t fancy running with a chair strapped to her back. She had done that once before, thinking it was a good idea to smash the chair against the wall to break it. Well, it wasn’t. She would rather cut the ropes. But there was nothing sharp around to free herself.

  The door opened, and two people fell to the ground. One was a man, the other a woman. She recognized them. One was Riven, the other Elera. She felt both anger and joy. On one hand, she was glad to see them, but on the other, the anger toward them still boiled within her. Especially toward Riven. What had that bastard been doing with Elera while they were together? And how had they even gotten caught? Silvia was a woman and alone. They had surrounded her and captured her. But them? They were two, and they fought well. She couldn’t believe she was seeing them here. She had secretly hoped they had escaped, even if it meant it was just the two of them. Everything was lost.

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  Both Riven and Elera were alive, crawling on the floor. Riven was clutching the ground with his palms, trying to stand. A tall man kicked him in the stomach, making him roll over again. The fact that they were alive calmed her, though the anger still simmered when she thought of them together. She started to sweat, and her hands trembled. Not again. She was succumbing to the tension again. And she shouldn’t.

  “Nero, is this one behaving?” The man stepped between Riven and Elera. He wasn’t very tall, but he was broad and solid in the shoulders. He had a beard, from what Silvia could see in the darkness, and wore high-heeled boots that added a bit to his height.

  “Yes,” Nero answered curtly.

  “Have you hit her?”

  Nero hesitated before answering. He looked at her.

  “You haven’t. So she’s been behaving.”

  Nero nodded.

  “I’m bringing her friends over. I think they know each other well.”

  Two men appeared behind the apparent master of this place. Each took a person—one grabbed Riven, the other Elera—and dragged them toward Silvia.

  “Nero, tie them up too. They’ll face trial tomorrow.”

  Nero looked surprised. He suddenly jumped to work, starting with Riven.

  They placed him in a chair next to hers. Riven was conscious, but his eyes were closed. He wasn’t speaking and kept turning his head left and right, as if he were having a nightmare. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead.

  “Riven?” she whispered to him softly.

  He didn’t answer. Suddenly, she wanted to embrace him. She felt sorry for him. What had these brutes done to him? The big Nero started tying him up. He told Riven to put his hands behind his back, but Riven didn’t comply. Nero shoved the chair and took them himself. Riven didn’t even seem to know what was happening, probably didn’t know where he was. Silvia’s eyes filled with tears, and her heart pounded. She tried to control herself.

  They placed Elera in a chair on her other side. Elera could see, but her eyes hadn’t adjusted, and she was frantically looking around.

  “Elera, calm down,” Silvia tried to speak to her.

  “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We were looking for you.” She spoke loudly. Everyone around could hear her. “There was a dead woman. We thought it was you, but it was some whore. They surrounded us and captured us. They think Riven killed the whore.”

  Elera wouldn’t stop talking.

  The broad-shouldered man signaled for Nero to step aside, took the chair Nero had been sitting in earlier, and sat down on it. He looked at each of them, laughing.

  “Nice story. Without asking, I’ve learned a lot. Now, my dears, tell me why you’re here. Why did you turn the whole town upside down?”

  “Who are you?” Elera asked, trying to stand. She couldn’t.

  A beam of light seemed to come from nowhere, passing through the windows and falling on the man’s face. He was swarthy and had scars on his face, like every man who had ever been in a fight. And he seemed to have been in battles, which was evident. The light irritated him, and he looked at it, then pulled back.

  “The entire night was spent chasing you three. While we caught you easily,” he pointed at Silvia, “these two resisted. They killed at least five of my men.”

  “And you’ll pay for it. You’ll pay for every one of them.”

  “Every dead man deserved it,” was all Silvia could think to say. She was expecting some encouragement from Riven, which she always received, but none came. She realized he wasn’t even moving.

  “Even the whore?”

  That question made her regret speaking. Still, she tried to reason with him.

  “I want you to release us and let us be on our way. We only stopped to rest for the night. That’s all we want.”

  “For just one night’s stay, three people are dead in Valdemar’s tavern, four in the stable, a whore, and more than five guards. And you just want to leave?”

  For a moment, she felt pride. Had they done all that? Actually, it was mostly Riven. She felt like she had gone back years when this was just another ordinary night for them. She smiled and looked at them. Her smile faded when she saw them again. They were beaten. Badly. Elera wasn’t as beautiful as she had been yesterday. It would take time before she could show her face again without someone feeling repulsed.

  “How do you know it was us?”

  “Who else?” The man laughed. “Mungard is a peaceful town. And I’d definitely accuse you right now of killing the whore.”

  “And them? Accuse me and let them go.”

  “Valdemar told us everything about the tavern. I’m inclined not to blame you for anything there. He said you helped him, though it will take him some time to reopen. But as for the stable…”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Let’s start over,” the man looked around. Nero stood behind him. The others had left. “My name is Oryk, and I rule this place. Now, it’s your turn.”

  He was surprisingly courteous. But Silvia had dealt with men like him. She knew that inside, he wanted to kill her. And if possible, watch her die.

  “Silvia,” she didn’t lie. “This is Riven, and this is Elera.”

  “Are you some kind of family?”

  She wondered if he was mocking her. Judging by his face, he wasn’t.

  “We’re not a family.”

  “I see. You’re with him, and he’s with the other wench. You got upset and started tearing up the town. You’ve turned everything upside down, and now we have to clean up and console the widows of the dead.”

  “Do what you want. You can’t accuse me of anything.”

  “Oh, we can, and we will.”

  Oryk, or whatever his name was, raised his hand. Nero approached and leaned forward. Oryk whispered something in his ear. The barbarian stood up and grinned, revealing several missing teeth.

  “Normally, we’re a peaceful place, and I really want to keep it that way. But for all this mess, someone has to take responsibility before my people. The village is small, we have about two hundred locals. We take people from the locals to keep order. Well, now most of the braver ones are dead. And after this, it will be hard to recruit new ones. How do you recruit new ones when the previous ones were killed by some visitors? Do you leave such a trail everywhere you go? If that’s the case, I’ll have to kill you myself. And I don’t like bloodshed around me. But everyone will want an explanation.”

  Silvia said nothing. She listened and was sure nothing good awaited them. She could see that Oryk wanted to keep talking. And she let him. How could she change his mind?

  “I’ll gather the town in the morning,” he looked outside. The sun was slowly rising. “Actually, it seems I’ve lost track of time. I’ll gather the town very soon, once the sun is up. And I’ll put you in the center. Let the wailing widows and their children decide your fate. I’ll give each of them a weapon. I’m telling you this so you can be prepared. And you’ll be tied up. Let them flay whichever one of you they want. I’ll stand aside and watch. If you’re lucky, they might show you mercy. Though I doubt it. I’ll try to tell them in detail what each of you has done. If you’re smart, tell me everything and throw one of you under the cart. Let them kill that one. See, I’m not so bad.”

  “If anything happens to us, you’ll answer directly to King Severin,” Silvia tried the last thing she could think of.

  “King Severin?” This seemed to catch his attention. “As far as I know, the king isn’t here. He’s gone south again to chase after those wildlings of his. He’s like a lovesick puppy with them. The kingdom is ruled by his advisors.”

  “Be grateful he doesn’t know how you speak of him.”

  “Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. I hear his son Bromir is becoming quite popular. And I get along well with Bromir. I’m not worried about Severin, and honestly, I doubt you know him at all.”

  Silvia looked at him. She didn’t have many more names to throw at him to catch his attention.

  “Bromir is getting married soon.”

  “Oh, yes. And his wife is beautiful. We’re invited too. Everyone from the kingdom is.”

  “Even those from the northern kingdoms?”

  “I don’t care about them.”

  “But Bromir does.” She sensed an opportunity. “He sent us to invite them.”

  “He sent you?” Oryk laughed. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Who would send you? Thieves and stinking peasants.”

  “Silvia…” Riven’s voice interrupted her. She turned her head. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to cradle his face in her hands. But she was tied up. She saw that his eyes were open. He looked at her and then closed them again.

  “Ah, your man is awake. Or is he her man?” He pointed at Elera. Silvia couldn’t see her well, but she could hear her groaning. She was in pain.

  “The Pink Terraces,” Riven said.

  Silvia smiled. She knew exactly what he meant. It even made her smile and cry.

  “What did he say?”

  “It’s none of your business,” her nose stuffed up, and tears flowed down her face.

  “We’ll go again, Riven. Just as soon as we get out of here.”

  Oryk signaled to Nero. The giant approached Riven and slapped him so hard that the sound echoed through the room. Riven’s head snapped to the side, and he fell asleep again.

  “Silvia…” She heard her name again. She no longer knew where it was coming from or who kept repeating it.

  “Nero!” Oryk almost shouted. Silvia sensed the irritation in his voice. “Prepare the square and gather the people. It’s early, but people around here say the day is known by its morning. What better morning could we give the crowd?”