By now, the other men of the Patrick forces had learned of the attack on Solgrim, and as they marched – and even in the days before the march – they had come to offer their condolences, and to reassure him that the men they left behind would have kept it strong and safe. Oliver wanted to believe them. In his moments of doubts, he had only needed to think of Nila. Her face came more vividly each time he thought of her. Strong with her bow, confident despite her age, as fierce as the fiery red of her hair. That was a girl that could surely not lose to anyone, and so he dared to hope.