Chapter 199

It was the winter council, a night of snow like torn silk at the windows and heat like breath over a cup of wine in the hall.

The council tables were set with maps.

Valerius had sent scouts east; they returned with word of Caelian’s men gathering in a ravine where stags wintered.

The king turned to his sons.

“Caelian looked at me,” Dante said. “He said: ‘We can still end this with words.’ My fathe