Page 289 of Salt Between the Wolves

She kept her gaze fixed ahead on the snow, the road, and the command tent, anywhere else.

Beside her, Soren said nothing, yet she had the distinct impression he had noticed, which of course he had, and the realization was irritating and somehow reassuring at the same time, a difficult combination.

They continued through the camp, and the closer they came to the command tent, the quieter the conversations seemed to become, not silent, never silent, but simply more aware.

People were watching, not her alone but both of them, waiting.

Eira understood why, as the entire pass appeared to be holding its breath.

At the center of the camp stood the large command pavilion, and the sight of it pulled her attention away from everything else, from maps and reports to messengers and decisions, the real reason she had come.

Soren slowed his horse.

"So."

Eira glanced toward him.

"So."

For the first time since arriving, something that looked suspiciously like amusement appeared in his eyes, a rare enough occurrence to be concerning.

"You still have time to turn around."

Eira stared at him, then looked toward the Frostvein banners visible beyond the northern ridge.

When she spoke, her voice was perfectly calm.

"I crossed half the north."

"Yes."

"I'm not turning around."

"No."

The amusement disappeared.

"You're really not."

For reasons she could not fully explain, that answer eased something inside her, not because he approved, since Soren rarely approved of anything, but because he sounded as though he had expected no other outcome.

He dismounted, and a moment later she did the same.

The wind shifted, and somewhere beyond the pass, hidden by distance and snowfall, Frostvein waited.

Tomorrow, perhaps even today, she would stand before her father again, and the thought settled heavily in her chest, though she ignored it.

There would be time for that conversation later.

For now there was only the command tent and the war neither side seemed willing to begin.

The command pavilion was warmer than the air outside, not comfortable, but simply warmer.

Several braziers burned along the edges of the tent, their light reflecting across maps spread over a large wooden table.

At least four people were already waiting inside.

Conversation stopped the moment Eira entered, not dramatically, just long enough to acknowledge her presence before attention shifted back to Soren, which somehow felt worse.