‘It’s too late,’ said Tor, who being considerably taller than the others, could see much further. He wasn’t looking at the first boat of Gevran soldiers but to the one gliding directly behind it. The one full of beasts. Wren frowned. ‘Is that—?’ ‘Yes,’ said Ansel and Tor at the same time. King Alarik was standing alone at the bow of the ship, his beasts roaming freely around him. He was tall and slender, wearing an immaculate white coat trimmed with fur and inlaid with silver brocade. His skin was pale as winter’s snow and his hair was the colour of summer wheat, a single dark line streaking
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