The horn's echo lingered over Ravenhold like a warning carried on the winter wind.
For a moment, neither Corvyn nor his father spoke.
The Wolfswood loomed beyond the walls, vast and black beneath the fading sky. Snow clouds drifted slowly across the horizon, swallowing the last thin traces of daylight.
Corvyn slid Nightfeather fully back into its sheath.
"Bolton scouts?" he asked.
Edrick Ravaryn did not answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the distant forest as though he might see through the miles of trees and shadow.
"Perhaps," he said at last.
Another horn sounded.
Closer.
Lower.
This time there was no mistaking the urgency in its call.
Corvyn felt something tighten in his chest.
"Our men," he said quietly.
"Maybe," Edrick replied. "Or maybe someone wants us to think so."
The wind rose again, sweeping along the tower walls and rattling the iron banners mounted along the battlements.
From below came the sudden sound of boots against stone.
Heavy boots.
A moment later a broad-shouldered man emerged from the stairwell leading up the watchtower.
Ser Halric Snow.
His cloak was half-fastened and his sword belt hung loose, as though he had armed himself in a hurry.
"I heard the horns," Halric said without greeting. "Tell me that's not Bolton steel wandering our woods."
Edrick gave a thin smile.
"I would prefer not to lie to you tonight, Halric."
The older knight exhaled through his nose.
"Seven hells," he muttered.
Corvyn watched the forest again.
The ravens had grown restless.
Three of them now circled the tower slowly, their dark wings beating against the pale sky.
"They know something," Corvyn murmured.
Ser Halric glanced upward.
"They're birds."
"They're not just birds," Corvyn said.
Edrick noticed the quiet certainty in his son's voice.
"How many?" Halric asked.
"Twenty men already in the woods," Edrick answered.
Halric frowned.
"That's not enough if Bolton riders are out there."
"Which is why," Edrick said calmly, "you will ride with another twenty."
Halric's eyes brightened slightly.
"Now that sounds more like Ravenhold."
Corvyn stepped forward.
"I ride with you."
Both men looked at him.
Halric raised an eyebrow.
Edrick studied his son in silence.
The wind whipped Corvyn's dark cloak around his shoulders.
"I know the Wolfswood better than any man you send," Corvyn continued. "And if Bolton steel truly walks our land—"
Edrick lifted a hand.
The gesture silenced him instantly.
For a long moment the lord of Ravenhold simply watched his son.
Then he nodded once.
"Very well."
Corvyn blinked slightly, surprised.
Halric chuckled under his breath.
"Careful what you wish for, boy."
Edrick turned toward the stairs.
"Gather twenty riders," he said. "No banners. No torches. I want shadows, not soldiers."
Halric grinned.
"My favorite kind."
The old knight disappeared down the stairwell at once.
Corvyn remained beside his father for a moment longer.
"You trust me with this?" he asked quietly.
Edrick looked once more toward the Wolfswood.
The forest had gone completely black now.
Only the pale stretch of snow between the trees reflected the dying light.
"Tonight," he said softly, "we will see whether you are an axe… or a scalpel."
Another distant horn sounded.
And somewhere deep in the frozen forest, a wolf began to howl.