They say Black Dow has killed more men than winter, and climbed to the throne of the North over mountains of skulls. The King of the Union, a jealous neighbor, has no intention of waiting for Dow to climb any higher. Orders have been given, and armies have dragged themselves through the northern mud. Thousands of men gather in a forgotten circle of stones, on a worthless hill, in an insignificant valley, and these men have brought a great deal of sharp metal.
Bremer dan Gorst, a disgraced swordsman, has sworn to win back his honor on the battlefield. Obsessed with redemption and addicted to violence, he does not care how much blood will be spilled in his attempts to regain that honor. Even if it is his own.
Prince Calder has no interest in honor, and even less desire to die. All he wants is power, and he will tell any lie, use any trick, and betray any friend to get it. So long as he does not have to fight for it himself.
Curnden Craw, the last honest man in the North, has earned nothing from a life spent in battle except swollen knees and shattered nerves. He no longer cares who wins; he just wants to do what is right. But can he understand what is right in this burning world?
In three bloody days, the fate of the North will be decided. But considering that both sides are riddled with intrigue, madness, hatred, and petty envy, it is unlikely that noble hearts or the strongest warriors will prevail.
Three men. One battle. No heroes.