---
Inside the den, the smell thickened—old blood, damp fur, rot pressed into stone.
"Captain."
Bren held up a human femur. The bone was darkened, one end gnawed rough where the bear's teeth had worked it over.
"Found this in the back, along with a few skulls."
Kael took the bone. The marks were familiar enough. The bear had fed on it.
The break at the end was something else.
"Look at this," Bren tracing the split near the top.
The bone had been hacked through in a single blow.
"An axe," Kogan diagnosed instantly, stepping closer. "Or a heavy cleaver. That's a chop mark."
Kael let his gaze move across the back of the den.
There was more than one set of remains. Too many bones, too many sizes, scattered where the bear had dragged them together.
His jaw tightened.
"More than one. Whoever did this has been killing in this area."
Kael stepped out of the den and into the open ground beyond the rocks. Cold air cut in immediately.
"This is our anchor point. Search outward. "
He drew his longsword from his belt and traced a line in the dirt with the tip, then split it with two cuts.
"Three teams."
He turned first to Bren. "You're with me."
Then to Kogan. "You and Silas."
Finally, his eyes settled on the archer and the shield-bearer. "Jarek. Griggs."
Kael lifted the sword and pointed it toward the trees.
"We regroup here before the sun reaches its peak."
"Move."
They nodded and split at once.
Kogan and Silas broke east, disappearing into the trees. Jarek and Griggs turned west, moving low along the slope. No one went south, back the way they had come.
Kael headed north with Bren at his side, pushing deeper into the forest as the ground rose ahead of them.
They worked the slope for half an hour, cutting a wide arc through the trees. Tracks thinned. The forest settled into its usual stillness. Kael slowed and drew a breath, turning slightly as if to speak.
Bren's hand closed on his shoulder.
Kael stopped. He followed Bren's line of sight into the trees ahead. Trunks, shadow, brush. Nothing stood out.
Bren's grip tightened once.
"There, I saw it."
He stepped off the line and moved between the trees, pace steady, eyes fixed forward. Kael went after him, boots crunching softly over roots and frozen ground.
The trees opened just enough.
A low wooden structure sat tucked against the rise, roof sagging under old snow, smoke-darkened planks half-swallowed by the forest.
A cabin.
Kael drew his dagger. Bren followed suit.
They approached from the blind side, moving silent as ghosts. Kael reached the door—a heavy curtain of cured hide—and listened.
Silence.
Kael nodded to Bren. He swept the hide aside, and they went in.
The cabin stood empty.
A low fire pit sat in the center of the dirt floor, an iron cooking pot hanging above it. The ash beneath had settled flat and cold.
Kael stepped inside. He slid the dagger back into its sheath, the motion practiced and quiet.
Bones covered the ground. Cracked thigh bones, splintered ribs, skulls stacked against the wall like bundled firewood. The bones all belonged to the same kind.
Human.
Kael leaned over the pot. A frozen layer of congealed fat sealed the bottom, trapping chunks of grey meat beneath.
Along the walls, strips of flesh hung from hooks and rough nails, stiffened by smoke and cold. Cut clean. Spaced evenly. Set to keep.
Kael straightened. Bren had seen it too.
Neither of them needed words.
Kael's eyes moved once more across the bones and the hanging meat.
So he hadn't been lying. He really did eat people.
Bren stared at the bones, then let out a breath.
"Hell, Captain. The stories talk about ogres in the forest—looks like they were right."
Kael took in the cabin at a glance. Valuables lay tossed aside among the remains.
His eyes moved from the coins to the bones, then to the meat on the wall.
"This wasn't done for gain. Something's wrong with him."
He turned back to the door.
"Let's go. We regroup."
Kael and Bren returned to the rendezvous point beneath the ridge.
Griggs and Jarek were already there, crouching in the snow.
Between them, a crude grid had been carved into the white with the tip of a dagger—boxes linked by straight lines. Stones and small bone chips sat on the marks like pieces on a board.
Jarek moved one with a gloved finger.
Griggs frowned, then shifted his own piece, slow and deliberate.
Boots crunched nearby.
They looked up at the same time, swept the pieces aside, and stood.
Griggs spoke first. "We took the west line. There's a short cliff—no way through."
Jarek nodded. "Checked the edges and the drop. Nothing else out there."
Kael gave a brief nod and looked around.
"Where are Kogan and Silas? "
Griggs glanced up at the sky, then back toward the treeline where Kogan and Silas had taken their route.
"They should've returned before the sun climbed that far."
Kael glanced down at the snow ahead. Heavy boot prints cut a clear path through it, the trail still fresh.
"Kogan's line, we follow."
He stepped onto the tracks at once and led them forward, moving fast along the route Kogan and Silas had taken.
They climbed the rise at a jog.
A voice carried up from beyond the crest—hoarse, strained, unfamiliar.
"I swear— I swear—"
The words broke apart in panic, the cadence unmistakable.
Pleading.
Kael pushed the last few steps and cleared the rise.
Below them lay a small clearing.
Kogan was there.
The massive former centurion was standing in the middle of the snow, his back to Kael.Silas stood next to him, shoulders loose, a faint grin on his face as he watched.
Kogan held the man off the ground with one hand.
He hung a few feet off the ground, boots twitching in the air.
Rags barely covered him. Grey hair stuck to his scalp, beard thick with grime.
"Please!" the man wailed, his voice cracking with terror. "I don't know anything! I'm just a woodcutter! Please, master, don't kill me!"
"A woodcutter?" Kogan roared, shaking him once, hard. "Then why are you here alone?""Where are the others?"
"I don't know! I live alone! Please!" The man sobbed, tears streaming down his dirt-streaked face. He clasped his hands together in a begging gesture. "I have a daughter... please..."
Griggs hesitated, eyes flicking once to Kael, then broke from his side and walked toward them, boots crunching through the snow.
"Kogan," he called out. "Maybe he's telling the truth."
He slowed several paces short, stopping well clear of Kogan's reach.
"Look at him," Griggs added. "He's just a starving old man."
Kogan's grip tightened.
He ignored Griggs entirely, eyes locked on the man kicking in his grasp, anger hard and unmoving.
"Nothing you've said holds," he growled. "No woodcutter walks this far in."
He leaned in just enough for the man to see his face.
"Do I have to start working on you before the truth comes out?"
"Enough."
Kael's voice cut in, flat and controlled.
"Let him go."
Kogan hesitated for a fraction of a second, then released his grip. The man collapsed into the snow, coughing, hands scrambling for balance.
Kael walked up and stopped directly in front of him.
He crouched just enough to bring himself level with the man's face, studying it in silence.
"Been a long time. Do you remember me?"