The river plains had become a cauldron of chaos by mid-morning. Smoke from burning signal fires curled into the grey sky while howls and the clash of steel echoed across the swollen waters. Magnus's vanguard had forced a partial crossing at the upstream ford, and Elowen's left flank was buckling under the pressure. The triumvirate's main force held the central position, but the fragile alliance with their sister was already showing hairline fractures...some of Elowen's pledged houses hesitated, their captains arguing over conflicting orders.
Seren stood beside Aeron on a raised command knoll, her new wolf senses overwhelmed yet sharpening with every passing minute. She could smell the acrid fear-sweat of wavering troops, the pine-and-blood scent of northern attackers, and the faint lavender trace of Elowen's personal guard moving through the lines. Her claws flexed involuntarily at her sides.
