Chapter 47

Netya’s eyes widened as he handed her the broken tip of her father’s spear. She had last seen the decorated weapon in Khelt’s hand the night he took it from Layon, but since then it had completely slipped her mind.

“You brought it with you,” she said, running her fingers over the familiar flint tip as she accepted the gift.

“A trophy, perhaps, but I thought it might mean more to you than me. From the look of it, it belonged to a warrior of your people.”

Netya nodded. “It was my father’s.”

“A great warrior, was he?”

“I do not know,” she replied. “He fought your people, and took one of the trophies for our wall, but he was killed before I was old enough to remember much of him.”

Khelt nodded, an expression of somber respect on his face. “Then you will honor him by taking his weapon into the hunt.”

“I am not sure I would want to honor a man who killed your people.”

“Enemy or not, he stood up to protect his home and family. It sounds like