Several hours before midnight, they finally arrived in Lavinyord. On both sides of the street, oil lanterns burned, casting a golden glow on the wooden houses. Anira followed her parents to the village square, where a pleasant bustle was spilling out from the various taverns and inns. They stopped at an inn that was situated on a corner of the square. Above the door, a tattered wooden sign swung in the breeze. ‘The Narwhal’ it said, accompanied by a faded depiction of its namesake. While Tiyodor went inside, Anira peered through the steamed-up windows into the common room. In the flickering light of a candlestick that was suspended from one of the rafters, a lutenist was performing a song for the guests. The innkeeper stood behind the bar with his wife looking contented, while a tavern maid handed out foaming tankards of ale to the group of merchants playing dice by the fire.

When Anira entered the inn, her gaze was captured by a row of animal skulls mounted above the fireplace. She effortlessly recognized most of them–a wolf, a bear, a bull–but she couldn’t place the last one. The skull was about the same size as the bear’s, but it was elongated with a narrower jaw showing two huge tusks pointing upwards.

The innkeeper laughed and came out from behind the bar. ‘That’s a sight you don’t see every day, isn’t it?’

‘What animal is it?’ Anira asked.

‘I bought that skull from a hunter who claimed he had found it in the forest on the other side of the river. He said it belonged to a Guyin, but I think he just wanted to make good money out of it.’ He chuckled.

‘A Guyin?’ Anira asked.

Tiyodor gave a little cough. ‘We’ve had a long day,’ he told the innkeeper. ‘Could you please show us to our room and send some food up?’

The innkeeper nodded. ‘Please, follow me.’ He winked at Anira and led the way up the stairs. He took them to a small room where Anira fell down on the bed and yawned.

‘What’s a Guyin?’ she asked after the innkeeper had left.

‘Your father has told you about the Ice Age, hasn’t he?’ Irma said. ‘Some people believe that there is a species of the Giant Beasts that managed to survive the Ice Age. A race of half-giants that is said to live on the other side of the river Dayno. They’re called the Guyins.’

Tiyodor shook his head disapprovingly. ‘That’s just a myth,’ he said. ‘Listen, Anira, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Especially if you haven’t seen it with your own eyes…’

A little while later, there was a knock on the door. The innkeeper’s wife came in to serve them a simple supper. Anira’s stomach growled as the scent of food filled the room. Her parents took a seat at a small table and let themselves be served. Anira took her plate to a chair by the window and stared outside while she ate. She looked out onto the courtyard behind the inn where some of the soldiers were grooming their horses in the rain. Anira’s horse wasn’t used to circumstances such as these and stood in the stable, out of the rain, together with the two carriage horses.

‘I’m sure Lavinyord has better inns than The Narwhal,’ Irma said after a while and stared at her food.

Tiyodor didn’t respond and cut a piece of meat off the leg of lamb that lay on the plate between them.

‘I bumped my head quite hard when the carriage got bogged down in the mud,’ Irma continued.

Tiyodor looked at the meat on his fork. ‘Joining me and Anira was your own choice. You knew what you were getting into.’ He put the piece of meat in his mouth and nodded approvingly.

Anira put her half-empty plate on the windowsill. ‘I’ve had enough,’ she said. The rest of the meal passed in silence.

‘We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,’ Tiyodor said as he laid down his cutlery on his plate. He looked at his daughter. ‘It’s time for bed.’

Anira put on her nightgown and crawled into bed. She stared at the ceiling until her parents blew out the candles and turned in as well. Then she rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes.

‘Goodnight,’ Irma whispered.

Barely any time at all passed before Anira fell into a deep sleep.

The sound of deep drumbeats rattled the firmament of her mind. There was screaming all around her. Cries of dying soldiers and the wailing of women and children. Shaking with fear, Anira looked around her. In front of her an arm was lying on the ground. The flesh was ragged around the edges where it had been torn off a torso. When gigantic shapes loomed up behind her, she started to run. She didn’t dare to look down, because she knew that the ground was littered with dead bodies, and that the cracking sounds came from bones being crushed.

Anira jolted awake, her heart pounding. She sat up straight and took deep breaths.

Irma moaned. ‘Are you having nightmares again, sweetheart?’

‘Yes,’ Anira panted.

‘Your uncle has suffered from them his entire life as well. I once heard that the Danu bloodline at some point was mixed with that of the Gods.’ She smiled. ‘Maybe Ervingal knows a remedy for it.’

‘I’ll be fine.’ Anira waited for her mother to close her eyes before she laid back down, feeling exhausted. Sleep, however, eluded her. In her mind she heard the shrieking laughter of the warrior with the loincloth and headdress made of feathers.

As soon as the first rays of sunlight beamed through the windows, her parents woke up. They all got dressed and went down to the common room where they were greeted by the innkeeper. Anira tried to ignore the skull mounted over the fireplace, but she couldn’t clear her mind of the horrible images from her dream.

The guests of the inn tucked into the breakfast that was set out on a long table. Anira and her parents joined them. While Anira spread a layer of honey on a piece of bread, she listened to the hum of voices around her. Most guests were either boatsmen or merchants. They all looked neat and tidy, except for the man sitting diagonally across from her, who had the gray hood of his cloak pulled over his head. He didn’t speak to anyone, and his cutlery lay untouched beside his plate, but none of the guests seemed to mind.

Anira took a bite of bread and stared at the man out of the corner of her eye. Then she saw that on his belt he was wearing a strangely curved knife. She choked on her mouthful when she realized he was looking straight at her. Spluttering, she put down her cutlery and averted her gaze. Images of her nightmare flashed through her mind. Her mother looked up from her conversation and patted Anira on the back.

At the same time, the man grabbed hold of his cloak and pulled his hood down. When Anira saw his face, she shoved her chair back in fright, the legs scraping on the floor noisily. The man’s hair hung in lank strands around his pale cheeks, one side of his face covered in burn scars.

‘Calm down,’ Irma said to her, giving the man an apologetic smile. ‘He’s a Watcher. One of the immortal members of the Grey Order. They watch over the Mano realm.’

The innkeeper laughed loudly. ‘I don’t blame you, young lady. He does look rather repulsive. He burned his face as a child, during his human life, but we’re glad the Grey Order sent him to Lavinyord. He protects the villagers from villains and makes sure that our fields and orchards keep yielding crops.’

Anira wanted to apologize, but the Watcher had averted his eyes. He appeared to be deep in thought. A little while later, he pulled his hood back over his head and left the common room.

‘Try and eat some more, Anira,’ Tiyodor said. ‘We have a long ferry trip ahead of us.’

Anira sighed, relaxed her shoulders and took another bite of bread. In the meantime, the innkeeper leaned towards Anira’s father and whispered something in his ear. Even though Anira couldn’t make out all the words, his intentions were clear. She tried to catch her mother’s eyes, but Irma ignored her.

Tiyodor looked at his daughter for a minute and then quietly answered the innkeeper. ‘You have a good reputation and an excellent inn, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer.’

‘All the same, I would really like to introduce him to you, sir. He’s a hard worker and has plenty of good qualities. Who knows, maybe I can make you change your mind?’

Tiyodor shook his head. ‘I’m sure your intentions are honorable, and I don’t wish to offend you, but I’ve already received more than one offer from several of the noble Mano families, you see.’

The innkeeper nodded. ‘I see. Thank you, nonetheless, for your willingness to listen to me.’ He smiled at Anira. ‘I wish you a pleasant continuation of your stay at The Narwhal.’

Tiyodor gave the man a friendly nod.

‘I’m not a piece of cattle,’ Anira said when the innkeeper had left. She got up and walked out of the common room and into the courtyard. She walked hurriedly through the rain. Entering the stable, the pungent scent of horses greeted her, and she found Doriyan all the way at the back of his stall. He snorted contentedly when he saw her. Anira smiled and took his head in her arms.

‘I hope my cousin Dunkan will be as pleased to see me as I am to see him,’ she whispered. Ervingal and his stepsons were not aware that Anira and her mother were coming to visit as well. Even though Dunkan had always written frankly about his mother’s death and his relationship with his stepfather, she wondered if he would be happy to see her. She was afraid that her presence would cause him to be confronted with the feelings he vented in his letters.

Behind her, someone opened the stable doors. A cold gust of wind dispersed the straw scattered around Anira’s feet. She turned around and stared at the gray silhouette that appeared in the doorway. Her shoulders tensed and she started back in fright. The Watcher bolted the doors behind him and slowly paced towards Anira, who stood with her back pressed against the wall and couldn’t back away any further. Halfway across the stable, he stopped and reached his hand out towards her. Anira felt a shiver shoot through her body as if her spirit was being touched by dozens of hands. Moments from her nightmares shot through her mind. Judging by his relaxed demeanor, the Watcher was using only a fraction of the power contained within his immortal body. No thought seemed safe from his scrutinizing eyes. She gasped for air and wanted to scream, but found that she couldn’t move.

‘You’re dreaming about him, aren’t you?’ The Watcher spoke softly, and his voice had a hissing quality to it so that his words could hardly be heard over the rain tapping on the stable roof.

He relinquished his hold on her a little, and she gasped for air. ‘Who?’ she managed to say.

‘He who brings strife. His body is covered in strange line patterns, and he wears a headdress with black feathers.’ The Watcher held his head askew. ‘You’re dreaming about him, aren’t you?’ he asked again.

She vainly tried to break free. ‘How… how do you know that?’ Anira’s horse whinnied loudly and kicked his hooves against the wooden board in front of him.

‘Do you know who he is?’

She shook her head. ‘A nightmare. He’s just a nightmare.’

The Watcher grinned. ‘The one you dream of is Merg, God of War; one of the seven Gods. What does he want from you?’

‘I… I don’t know what you mean.’

The Watcher squinted. Somewhere deep behind his eyes, Anira could discern the man he had once been. All of a sudden, he let go of her. Her legs gave way, but her hand grabbed hold of her horse’s stall. It took her a lot of effort to remain standing.

He looked at her. ‘I am the Watcher Yarnus,’ he said. ‘The Grey Order has been called into existence to serve the Mano people. I don’t mean to harm you.’

Anira stared at him. ‘What do you want from me then?’

Humans with divine blood can see glimpses of the future,’ he said. ‘And you show signs of this gift.’

‘Do you mean…’ Anira swallowed, ‘that my dreams are real?’

The Watcher nodded. ‘They could be visions,’ he said. ‘Why did your parents bring you to Lavinyord?’ he asked. ‘Are you going to cross the river?’

‘We’re traveling to my Uncle Ervingal’s settler village.’

‘Ervingal Danu? The governor of Varna?’

‘Do you know him?’

‘I met him several weeks ago when he was in Lavinyord on business. The slow construction of Varna concerned him greatly. He asked if the Grey Order of Watchers could send one of its members to Varna to help him. I sent a message to the head of the Grey Order, but the King has forbidden us Watchers to cross the river.’

‘Why?’ Anira asked.

‘I don’t know,’ the Watcher answered. ‘But if you ask me, I think it spells trouble for the settlers in Varna. Be on your guard, because Merg can under no circumstances be trusted.’ He looked at her. ‘But that isn’t everything. The creatures you dreamed about last night, do you know what they are?’

‘I’ve seen the skull above the fireplace in the tavern. The innkeeper says it belonged to a Guyin, a race of half-giants that survived the Ice Age. Is that true?’

‘I remember that when the King’s palace in Mano was built, several centuries ago, skeletons of the Giant Beasts were found deep underground, but I don’t know if the Guyins survived the Ice Age. There aren’t many people who have entered the Linar Forest.’ He frowned. ‘And even fewer have returned.’

Anira shivered. ‘So, what do I make of my dreams?’

The Watcher laughed. ‘The future has already been written. It can’t be warded off anymore. I hope for your sake that Merg is merciful.’

Someone rattled the stable doors. ‘Is anyone there? Anira?’ came a young man’s voice. ‘Open up, will you?’

The Watcher walked towards the doors, but then suddenly stopped. ‘There is something I need you to do for me.’ He turned around. ‘Much is unclear to me. Why would the King want to expand his realm westwards in the first place? And why would he send the palace master swordsmith to govern such a remote settlement? After all, the only thing to be found there is a gigantic forest.’ He looked at her. ‘Bearing in mind the coming of Merg, it can’t hurt to have someone keeping an eye on matters in Varna, seeing as I'm not allowed to go there myself.’

The knocking on the stable doors was getting louder. ‘Anira, is that you? I think I saw you go in there. Open the doors!’

The Watcher kept talking unperturbed. ‘I’m a member of the city council of Lavinyord. Given that the ferry only crosses the river once every month, your uncle Ervingal keeps us informed of progress in the settler village by carrier pigeons.’ He bent towards her. ‘I want you to use the carrier pigeons to message me about anything suggesting the involvement of the God of War. Understood?’

Anira nodded. Her hands were shaking.

All of a sudden, there was a heavy bang. The bolt gave way and the stable doors burst open. Diyur, the son of the guard Captain entered the stable, sword in hand. He stared at the Watcher. ‘Anira? Is everything all right?’

The watcher stepped aside and raised his hands. ‘Not to worry, Soldier. I haven’t touched her.’

‘Get out!’ Diyur yelled at him.

The Watcher nodded at Anira one final time and, with a grin on his face, walked straight past Diyur and out of the stable. Anira took a deep breath and cupped her face in her hands. Diyur walked up to her. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked and put a hand on her shoulder.

This startled Anira, causing her to flinch. ‘Keep your hands off me,’ she murmured, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘Leave me alone.’ She couldn’t stand the worried look in his eyes and stared at the ground.

Diyur backed away towards the stable doors and sheathed his sword. Anira avoided his gaze. She didn’t look up until he had vacated the stable.