Blustery winds still occasionally drove squalls of rain in from the west, but when the sun did shine, it had real warmth. Good news had arrived from the County. As Grimalkin had predicted, both the Lowland and Highland Scots had joined a coalition of the free northern counties. A big battle had been fought north of Kendal. The enemy had been driven south, but the conflict was far from over yet. They had regrouped near Priestown, and another battle was imminent. Each day I waited expectantly, hoping for news. I wanted to go home. The guards around the house had been doubled ever since one of them had mysteriously disappeared without a trace. I had noted Grimalkin’s warning, but I had not seen any sign of the servants of the dark. The long war between the mages and the landowners had once more settled into the uneasy stalemate that had endured for centuries. Despite our best efforts, nothing had really changed. Early one morning, with the sun shining in a cloudless sky, I was out exercising the dogs.
