Chapter 12 · The Wolf Banner

"Get back from the edge!" Virrak's shout came half a second before the ice gave way.

I didn't get back. I lunged forward and grabbed his coat as the crack split wide, dragging us both down into black water that hit like a fist made of knives. My lungs locked. The cold didn't care about morale stats or terrain bonuses.

Virrak's weight pulled me under. His armor, his boots, all that metal loyalty sinking like a stone.

I kicked hard, broke the surface, gulped air that burned worse going in than the water had. "Let go of the sword!"

"Can't." His voice came out in chunks. "Oath blade."

"You'll die with it."

"Better than without."

Typical. I got an arm under his shoulder and kicked toward the edge. The supply sleds sat twenty feet away on solid ice, close enough to see the grain sacks stamped with Ironvow marks. Everything we needed to keep the camp alive another week. Virrak or the food. The numbers didn't care which one I wanted.

I chose him.

Someone grabbed my wrist and hauled us both onto the shelf.