'It makes sense if they're trying to get up to the eastern side of the Northlands. There's a spur of mountains that runs north-east out of the Teeth of the World, hundreds of miles long and impassable. Over the Great Northerns, past the Lake of the Sky, and up a trail back north over the Teeth of the World is a shortcut, actually.' The old duke stroked his still-wet beard. 'It's one of the reasons we have so much trouble with the bastards up in Yabon.'

Borric nodded. 'They tend to leave us alone in Crydee, compared to the encounters your garrisons have with them.'

'I just wish I knew why they were out in force, heading east, this close to winter,' muttered Brucal.

'Something's up,' said Borric.

Brucal nodded. 'I've been fighting Clan Raven since I was a boy.' He fell silent for a moment. 'Their paramount chieftain is a murderous dog named Murad. If this bunch from the Northlands is looking to join with him…'

'What?'

'I don't know, but it'll be bad.' Looking over the rest of the map, Brucal asked, 'Do we have anyone in that area now?'

'Just the garrison forts along the Tsurani front, and a few last patrols before winter,' Borric replied.

Brucal leaned close to inspect each of the small ink marks on the map, then made a sound half-way between a snort and a laugh. 'Hartraft.'

'Who?' asked Borric.

'Son of one of my squires. Dennis Hartraft. Runs a company of thugs and cut-throats called the Marauders for Baron Moyet. He's up there.'

'What's he doing?' asked Borric. 'The name is familiar, but I don't recall any reports from him.'

'Dennis is not one for paperwork,' said Brucal. 'What he's doing is unleashing bloody murder on the Tsurani. It's personal with him.'

'Can we get word to him about this Dark Brothers migration?'

'He's an independent. He'll come back to Moyet's camp for the winter in the next week or two. I'll send word to the Baron to get whatever information from Dennis he can.' Then Brucal laughed. 'Though it would be fitting for him and Clan Raven to tangle if it comes to that.'