The sun had dropped low enough behind the western ridge that the smoke hanging over the pass had turned the color of rust. For the first time in three days, nothing new came out of it to meet Beorn. No fresh volley cracked against the rock walls. No horn called from the eastern slope.
He stood at the edge of the shelf and waited.
Silence after three days of battle could be a trick as easily as a blessing. Only when enough moments passed without anything breaking it did he decide he could trust what he was hearing.
Godric climbed the last stretch of trail behind him, breathing hard, black powder worked into every crease of his hands.
"The third column at the mouth broke an hour ago," Godric said. "Cedd's line held. The slope's held since midday, and nobody's tested it for hours. Nothing's come off the ground east of the center regiment either. Not since the second cavalry push fell apart."
"All three fronts."
