Page 398 of Of Empires and Dust

The man in the black leather stopped a foot or so before Alina, his chin tilted upwards as he stared at the five wyverns who stood over her protectively.

Rynvar leaned forwards, his black-scaled lips lifting in a snarl, his winged forelimbs pressing into the sand. The wyvern lowered his head, a growl resonating in his throat. Audin, Urin, and the other wyverns moved back, deferring to Rynvar.

The man didn’t so much as flinch. He stared straight into the wyvern’s eyes, then dropped to one knee, a fist across his chest, and looked to Alina. “Queen Alina Ateres, my name is Aeson Virandr, and I have come to keep an oath I made to your father and mother. I failed them, and that will haunt me for the rest of my days. But my oath is not dead. I will see Valtara free, or I will die in the trying, on this you have my solemn vow. I bring with me four thousand free Epherian swords pledged to rid this world of the Lorian Empire, five hundred of the finest Arkalen Stormguard sent by Aurelian Animar, and twenty thousand strong of the Latrakian Kingdom of Narvona. Allow us to fight by your side, and together we will drive your enemies from this land, and we will burn the Lorian Empire from Epheria.”

The lines beneath his blue eyes creased as he stared at Alina, his hand firmly pressed to his chest, awaiting her response. Behind him, the others stood silent, and more soldiers marched down the gangway.

Alina allowed a few moments to pass, nodding slowly. Aeson had not mentioned that his swords would be those of a Narvonan kingdom. “Aeson Virandr. I have known your name since I was a child, yet I had never seen your face until this moment. You are not what I had imagined. Rise.”

Aeson stood, bowing slightly at the waist. “What had you imagined, Your Grace?”

Something less. The man had an aura about him, a sense of strength and surety that radiated from every movement he made. For some reason, it irritated her.

“I’m not sure,” Alina answered, feigning a smile.

Alina had been prepared for a battle of words the first time she would meet Aeson Virandr. For years she’d thought of what she’d say if she ever looked into his eyes. But in that moment, it all evaporated. She had not expected such deference from the man her parents had spoken of like a god. It had put her off balance.

“Where is Dayne?” Aeson looked past Alina at the other Wyndarii.

“Captured.”

Aeson’s expression shifted the moment the word left Alina’s lips. “When? Where?”

“A few days past. Loren has him in Achyron’s Keep. We march tomorrow.”

“It is a good thing, then, that we arrived when we did. I had hoped to reach Valtara sooner, but the winds have not been kind, and Lorian ships patrol the waters all about the coasts of Varsund and Arkalen.” He let out a short sigh. “Please, my manners.”

Aeson turned to the side, the companions behind him parting.

A man and a woman stood at the head of a column of armoured Narvonan soldiers, flanked by four warriors in pearlescent plate astride two-legged reptilian mounts. These mounts were far smaller and leaner than the massive creatures that had first come down the gangplank, and they looked quick and ferocious. She had heard stories of the Narvonan darvakin, savage war mounts that could tear a man’s arm free and outrun a horse.

The man was tall and wiry, though well-muscled. His head was shaved clean, and white-ink tattoos decorated his face. Armour gilded from top to bottom and bearing the face of one of those monstrous mounts fit his form perfectly, and the sapphire eyes in the breastplate sparkled fiercely in the sun. His pauldrons were shaped like snatching claws, the detail beyond anything Alina had ever seen wrought in metal. A long sword hung from the belt at his hip, a cut ruby set into the pommel.

The woman stood with her chin high, her right hand on the sapphire pommel of her sword. Thick braids adorned with sapphires and rings of gold hung nearly to her waist. A white dot was inked below each of her eyes, along with two white lines that moved from above her top lip and down over her chin. The armour she wore was wrought entirely from a smooth, pearlescent material that caught the light in many colours, gold worked into its edges. As she stared at the incomparable plate, Alina realised what it was: Atalus shell. The shell of the great Atalus turtles, hard as steel and capable of absorbing magic. Alina had only ever heard stories of it. It was granted to the greatest warriors of Narvona – the Isildans – and to royalty. It was said that Narvonans guarded it more closely than Godfire, more closely than their own souls. She looked back up at the warriors in the same plate mounted astride the darvakin. Were they truly Isildans?

The man stepped forwards. He nodded to Aeson before turning his attention to Alina. He bowed and pressed his two clenched fists together.

Alina knew the gesture: a Narvonan sign of respect. She mimicked it, drawing a smile from the man.

“Queen Alina Ateres of Valtara, First of the Wyndarii, it honours us to hunt by your side.” His accent was thick, clinging to the vowels and rolling ‘R’s.

“The honour is ours. May our hunt be short and fruitful.” Her father had taught her the words many summers ago, when he’d traded with Narvonan merchants to purchase the sapphire pendant she’d worn about her neck until the Lorians destroyed everything. She had been but a child then. And she would have paid a hundred times the price to have that pendant once more.

“My name is Akraf Latrak. Prince Consort, Commander of the armies of Princess Kayala Latrak, and Sworn Shield to the princess herself.” The man smiled again before gesturing towards the woman. “May I introduce you to Princess Kayala Latrak, Blood of the Water, Scourge of the Antigan Ocean, and third in line to the royal house of Latrak.”

Princess Kayala inclined her head and pressed her two fists together.

Alina stared back, unsure what to say. Aeson had not simply brought Narvonan warriors to her shores. Not sellswords or men and women looking for a new home. He had brought Narvonan royalty. There would be a price to that. “It is an honour to share the wind in your sails, Princess Kayala.”

“And I yours, Queen Alina. On my journeys, I have received many reports of the Wyvern Queen of Valtara.”

A tense silence passed between them, and Alina looked from Kayala to Aeson and back. “Forgive me,” Alina said. “But our march has been long, my mind is weary, and my brother is in chains behind the walls of my enemy’s keep. And so I apologise for my curtness when I ask why Aeson Virandr has brought a foreign army to my shores and what he has promised you in return for your aid.”

Aeson made to speak but stopped at a glance from Kayala.

“Your people are foreign to these lands if I am not mistaken. We share the same ancestry. The first settlers of Valtara and Daris both come from the old lands, do they not?”

“That was three thousand years ago.”

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