Book 1 - Reap the East Wind by Glen Cook

as much as she had hated him for doing things just as crazy for other friends.

    Kavelin’s Marshall Ragnarson proved her wrong. He hadn’t come without sufficient strength. The army of Necremnos, Argon’s great rival upriver, was on the attack as well. The Argonese couldn’t withstand the twin hammer blows.
    She stayed out of the way till she could no longer stand not knowing what was happening. Then she hunted Bragi down. His troops controlled most of the Fadem by then. Only one citadel remained untaken, and he was on the brink of assaulting that. “Have you found out anything?” she asked. “Anything at all?”
    “About Ethrian? Some. He’s in there.” He indicated the target tower. “With the Fadema and the Tervola. We should have him for you in a few hours.”
    “What if they...” She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t even think it.
    “Why should they hurt him? If there’s nothing they can gain?”
    She didn’t feel reassured. “Spite.”
    “Hmm. The Fadema might be capable of it. But she isn’t in charge. The Tervola has more sense. Why don’t you find yourself a place out of the way and wait? We’re going in in a few minutes.”
    The waiting was almost intolerable. The wizard Varthlokkur came and shared it for a while, till he was called into the fighting. His presence was comforting. Though he and she hadn’t always gotten along, he had been part of her life since childhood. He represented one of the few stable elements in her life.
    The fighting went on for a long time. Far longer than Bragi expected. Despite herself, she nodded off.
    Ragged cheering wakened her. She sprang up, rushed to where victorious soldiers were leaving the captured tower. She grabbed at every man she recognized. “Have you seen my son?” Some just looked at her with tired, blank eyes. Others shook their heads and trudged on.
    Then Varthlokkur came out, looking more exhausted than any of the men. He was fussing over a man on a stretcher. “Bragi!” Nepanthe gasped. “Varth, what happened? Where’s Ethrian?”
    In a voice barely above a whisper, without emotion, the wizard replied, “Gone. They escaped at the last second. Through a transfer portal. Just when we thought we had them. They took Ethrian with them.”
    “But...  couldn’t you stop them? Why didn’t you stop them?” She heard the hysteria creeping into her voice but couldn’t quell its growth.
    “We did everything we could. Bragi may have lost his sight trying. We failed. That’s all there is to it.”
    The hysteria receded as she looked at Bragi. Lost his sight? Trying to rescue Ethrian? She started crying.

    Her world consisted solely of shades of grey. First Mocker had gone, then Ethrian. Her brothers had fallen long before. There was nothing left. No reason to go on. Why even live in a world so cruel?
    Varthlokkur was doing his best to soften her despair, and paying gentle court, just as he had done for years. She wasn’t ready for that, but hadn’t the heart to push him away. And there was comfort in being able to reach out to that one touchstone he represented.
    She wasn’t alone. Never alone. Varthlokkur wasn’t what she wanted, but so long as he lived there would be someone. There was that much security in her world.
    Someone knocked. Her security stepped into her room. “We’re going to pull out today. Bragi is going to visit the Necremnen King, but that’s just smokescreen. We’ve made a deal with the Argonese.” He chuckled.
    They were going to leave the Necremnens holding the bag? Good. Recent intelligence indicated that the Necremnens planned to loot Bragi’s men as soon as they’d finished their share of Argonese. By seizing the Fadem Bragi’s men had managed to appropriate Argon’s richest concentrations of wealth.
    “How soon?” she asked.
    “As soon as you’re ready. There’s a barge waiting down at the water gate. Do you need any help?”
    “Help? With what? I don’t have much more than the clothes on my