At the top of the Ridge was a small plateau where Sornam could cross without being noticed. It was rough with jagged stone and a bit slanted, but enough of a gathering point for a few climbers at a time. Sornam knelt at the edge with the others and looked down on the camps below. There was a round tent a bit in the distance surrounded by wagons. Even further away was another tent along a road. Directly below them were only a handful of soldiers guarding the end of the tunnel.

“I could sure use Tenzin right now,” Norbu said.

Sornam nodded. “He really was the best of us in climbing. He would have made short work of this. Where do you think he is right now?”

“Menquist wanted him to go west, to Menathinion,” Norbu answered. “He’s probably climbing a tree right now. He’s missing out on all our fun.”

“If we can keep quiet, we can descend right behind the group guarding the tunnel,” Dao interrupted. “Then we’ll split up and take the remaining two stations.”

The Reapers fixed the white wooden poles with the hooks on each other and created a rappel down the cliff. Two long chains of poles ran down, bearing only three at a time.

“The men below are moving,” Norbu noticed. “We’ll lose our surprise.”

“We can’t hurry this,” Dao warned.

The Grastenport soldiers below were standing now, getting ready to move. The Reapers whispered loudly to each other as they descended, telling each other to hurry. They started taking chances by sliding down the poles.

Dao exhaled. The poles held, and her Reapers were gaining ground. “Let’s follow them down,” she said.

Before she could grab onto the pole, there was a snap. One of the chain of poles had broken, and several of the Reapers fell down the cliff.

“No,” gasped Dao.

“We have to move or we lose advantage!” Sornam cried. He grabbed onto the top of the broken chain of poles and slid down halfway down the cliff, and when he arrived to the broken part of the chain he leapt for the other chain, and continued sliding down.

“Up there!” one of the soldiers below called. “Sound the horn!”

Sornam rappelled down the chain, then turned around and ran down the cliff, holding the chain of poles at his side. He leapt toward a tree and grabbed onto a branch, but the branch broke and he tumbled and spun like a loose wheel, crashing onto another branch that not break, and he continued to fall until he landed on top of one of the fallen Reapers.

“An apple fell from the tree,” the soldier said, drawing a dagger from his hip. He looked up. “Call the others. What are you, some sort of White Pole Army?”

The soldier plunged down with the dagger but Sornam caught the blade in his hand, slicing into his palm. His other hand grabbed onto the soldier’s wrist but he was too heavy to stop. Just as the tip of the dagger touched his coat the soldier was knocked off his feet. Norbu had descended from the cliff.

Norbu parried a swing of a sword.

“Your hand,” he said to Sornam as he disarmed a soldier.

“No matter, get the runner before he reaches the others.”

“We’ll handle these, go,” Dao said as she landed.

Her Reapers drew swords and started clashing steel with the soldiers as Norbu darted off.

Sornam grabbed the ankle of the soldier who was on the ground beside him with his good hand and put the soldier’s leg between his own. He turned and folded his right leg over the straight knee of the soldier and tucked the foot of his bent leg under his left leg, locking the soldier in place. Whenever the soldier tried to move, Sornam put pressure on the leg and the soldier screamed.

“Careful, or I’ll snap your knee,” Sornam said. He looked at the deep cut in his left palm. Blood trickled down his wrist as lay on the ground beside the dead Reaper he had fallen on.

“I can stitch that for you later,” Dao said, putting a dagger to the soldier as Sornam released his lock.

The Reapers had subdued the soldiers, then helped Sornam up. They stood over the two fallen Reapers and said a quiet prayer. When they were done, they loudly cursed at the soldiers.

Sornam ripped his left sleeve off and tied it tightly around his left hand. He glanced up. “You’re fast.”

“I’m getting old,” Norbu said as he returned with the other soldier. “He nearly alerted the others.”

The soldiers were put against a tree.

“How many total are here?” Dao asked them.

They turned their faces away from her.

“What is your lord’s next move?”

One of them cursed at her. The other turned to one of the dead and spat on his corpse.

One of the Reapers behind Dao drew a curved blade and in one motion slit the throats of two soldiers, the blood splashing across them. The other Reapers slit the throats of the rest.

“They were defenseless!” cried Sornam.

“This is our way,” the Reaper said.

“I did not want them dead,” Dao said. “I had more questions, though they likely weren’t going to answer my questions anyway. This is our way, Sornam.”

“This is your way,” Sornam said in a low voice.

Dao removed her armor and wiped the blood from her face, leaving a smear on her chin. “I’m going to inform the princess, and I’ll bring the rest. You should scout the area.”

She disappeared into the dark tunnel.

“Stay here,” Sornam instructed the four Reapers. “Last thing we want is for their soldiers to reclaim this end of the tunnel.”

Sornam and Norbu crept past the trees toward one of the tents where the soldiers were stationed.

“Looks as if your friends never left Neredun,” Norbu said.

“Aye,” Sornam agreed. He squinted into the distance toward the line of trees. “How far is Grastenport from here?”

“I’m not as familiar with these lands,” Norbu said. “I’m an old man. Those map lessons were a long time ago.”

“For an old man I figured you’ve learned everything by now.”

They sneaked around the tent and heard soldiers arguing inside. Sornam perked an ear and recognized the sound of gambling. They continued on past the tent and found several supply wagons without horses. There were crates and empty chests on the wagons, with some broken bottles on the ground. In the wagon were some torn pieces of leather, pairs of old boots, a mess of rope, and scabbards without swords.

“They’ve been here a while,” Norbu said.

Past the tent was a cobbled road that went straight between hills. From here, Sornam could see the city by the sea.

“Grastenport is nearby, that must be it.”

“There’s that fellow with you…the one with the frosted beard and the look in his eye.” Norbu said.

“They all have a look.”

“The fellow in the red armor,” Norbu clarified.

“Ah, yes, the Butcher.”

“How fitting. When the Butcher arrives through those tunnels, there will be a massacre.”

“That’s what Butchers do, don’t they?” Sornam sighed. “You’re right. We can at least try to steer them toward civility. I’ve been with them for months. Bloodlust is a virtue to them.”

“Then let’s take the blood away from them,” Norbu said. “Do you remember that time we had to herd the rabid sheep for Mayor Gideon in the Promise?”

“I passed five exams, became a Peer, left the Scales to serve the King, and in my first year I had to deal with rebellious sheep,” Sornam said. “Yes, I remember.”

“The constable wanted all of them hunted by bow, but the healers were worried that any spread of blood would cause sickness. Everyone was fearful, and they called on us. So let’s round up the rabid sheep.”

Sornam chuckled. “Rabid sheep it is then. Whatever it takes to save them from the rabid Butchers.”

Norbu went back to the supply wagon and grabbed the rope. Sornam held to one end with his uninjured hand while Norbu crept around the tent and wrapped the rope once, then tied a loose slip knot with the two ends, careful not to disturb the angry name calling and laughing from within the tent. From where they stood, they could see parts of the ridge through the trees. Sornam put one hand on one of the pins holding the tent upright, with the injured hand held with the bandaged palm up. He kept it there, listening to the voices while keeping an eye on the trees.

Then he saw it. The familiar red armor barreling through the trees with an axe in each hand. Kamfongil the Butcher had arrived.

Sornam dropped his hand and pulled the pin. Norbu did the same. The tent started to cave. The voices inside started shouting, but more pins were pulled until the tent collapsed. Norbu yanked on the rope and tightened around the mass of bodies beneath the canvas of the flattened tent.

Streaming behind Kamfongil were his Butchers, all of them baring a weapon.

Sornam grabbed the rope as well and pulled as hard as he could, tightening the rope even more. The soldiers continued to shout, the confusion in their voices replaced by anger when they realized they were being ambushed.

When the Butchers arrived Sornam stepped in before they had a chance to plunge their swords into the struggling pile of bodies.

“They are our prisoners,” he said. “This is our way.”

Kamfongil snarled at Sornam but relented. He cut and tore away at the collapsed tent and the soldiers surrendered at the sight of blades and axes surrounding them.

The Tree Riders were now approaching with the Rest of the Reapers.

“There’s another tent up the road,” Sornam said when they had caught up. “We now have the numbers. Let’s wait here until our full force arrives. We can go overwhelm them and get them to surrender.”

The rest had come through the tunnel, including Rollo leading the Vale-men and the Promisemen. Perenenda arrived beside Xaykansam. With their gathered strength, Sornam was right. There were probably a couple dozen soldiers at the other camp, and when they saw the Neredunians the sheer shock of seeing anyone this side of the Ridge made them freeze.

The Butcher above all others was the most disappointed in not being able to shed blood. He tucked his two axes into his belt and turned away to sulk on a fallen log.

“Where does this road take us?” Perenenda asked later after they had bound the prisoners into a chain of rope.

“To Grastenport, my lady,” Sornam replied as he sat with his hand out while Dao stitched his cut. “It is a stone castle against the sea. It is the other great port city of the north.”

“We’ve come to liberate Sundersport,” Perenenda said.

“Yes, but there is no liberation without going through Baron Visant’s stronghold,” Norbu said.

Dao cut off the remaining string and put an ointment and bandage over the stitches. Sornam moved his fingers a bit.

“Cut off a limb and it grows back,” he said. “Cut off the root, and it will never grow back.”

“They will not be expecting us from this road,” she said, scanning the trees. “They thought their backs were protected by the Eastern Ridge, but now their backsides are exposed. Captains!”

Dao and Xaykansam stood at attention. Kamfongil grunted and joined them. “Xaykansam, you and your Tree Riders belong with the horses we left behind on the other side of the Ridge. Return to Rollo, and wait for our word. When we have taken the port cities, will send a runner for you to bring the horses, the train, and the rest of our people north. Go now.”

Xaykansam bowed and whistled at a few of his men to go back through the tunnel.

“For the rest of you, we will make our way to the unsuspecting Baron Visant and take their castle,” she said. “Avoid bloodshed if you can. If you cannot, the Field God will thank you for it. Captain Kamfongil, you lead the charge.”

Kamfongil smiled for the first time in a long time.