The horn's echo rolled through the valley like thunder.
Bolton soldiers rose from the snow as if the ground itself had given birth to them. Cloaks of pale grey and dirty white had hidden them perfectly against the frozen earth.
Crossbows lifted.
Dozens of them.
Ser Halric cursed.
"Down!"
The first volley flew.
Bolts screamed through the cold air and slammed into the ridge around the Ravaryn riders. One struck a horse, sending the animal collapsing with a terrified scream.
Corvyn had already moved.
"Back into the trees!" he shouted.
The riders turned their horses sharply, forcing them back toward the thicker forest behind the ridge.
Another volley followed.
A Ravaryn rider cried out as a bolt tore through his shoulder, knocking him from the saddle into the snow.
Halric grabbed the wounded man's cloak and dragged him behind a fallen pine.
"Move!" the knight roared.
Corvyn wheeled Shade around and scanned the valley.
Bolton soldiers were advancing now, spreading across the open ground in a wide line.
And at their center rode Ser Roderic Bolton.
The knight looked entirely pleased with himself.
"I must say," Roderic called across the valley, "you almost impressed me."
Corvyn said nothing.
His eyes searched the forest instead.
There had to be a way out.
There was always a way out.
Halric crouched beside him.
"You see something?"
Corvyn pointed toward a steep cluster of rocks rising along the northern edge of the valley.
The trees there grew thicker.
Darker.
If they could reach it, the Boltons would lose sight of them.
Halric followed his gaze and nodded slowly.
"Risky," he said.
"Everything tonight is risky," Corvyn replied.
Another horn sounded.
More Bolton riders appeared along the far ridge behind them.
Halric grimaced.
"And we're running out of time."
Corvyn lifted Nightfeather.
The dark Valyrian steel gleamed faintly beneath the grey sky.
The remaining Ravaryn riders gathered close around him.
Seven now.
Only seven.
Corvyn's voice remained calm.
"We break through there."
He pointed toward the northern rocks.
Halric grinned like a wolf.
"Thought you'd never say it."
Corvyn turned Shade toward the valley.
Bolton soldiers were closing in fast now, shields raised as they marched through the snow.
Ser Roderic Bolton raised his hand again.
"End this," he ordered.
Corvyn kicked his horse forward.
"Ride!"
The Ravaryn riders charged down the ridge and into the valley.
Nightfeather flashed as the first Bolton soldier stepped into their path.
Steel met steel.
And the snow began to turn red.