The Fetters of Fate: The Bladeborn Saga, Book Five by T.C. Edge

Author:T.C. Edge [Edge, T.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-03-29T16:00:00+00:00

36

The waters of the Red Sea were wild and raging, stirred up into a frenzy by the coming of the storm. From the high balcony of the Spear, Amron Daecar gazed out, praying the enemy armada was out there. Let the seas swallow them whole, he thought. Let Rasalan drag them all down to his watery halls, to be jesters and fools in his court.

His blue Varin cloak was whipping in the wind, though the rain had not yet started to fall. Spring was a stormy season in the south of Vandar, and the seas were prone to churn like this, though rarely did the storms last long. He had consulted his augurs that morning and been told this one would be no different. A petulant rant, they had called it. Turbulent and angry, yet short. Amron had hoped for a longer, more bitter tempest to take root, though apparently it was not to be. But then who could really say? The augurs had been known to get it wrong as oft as they got it right.

“When did you last have word from your sea scouts, Lady Brockenhurst?”

The Pointed Lady stood at his side, furled in a thick orange fox fur cloak with a massive high-backed collar, black and stiff and tall enough that it reached above the height of her narrow head. Her dark hair was pulled back and tightly bound in a knot, making that long nose of hers particularly prominent as it thrust forth from a face thin and vulpine. She was a slender woman, raw-boned and angular, though not old, born of Tukor though now a Vandarian by marriage. Her late husband Lord Farys Brockenhurst had died at sea some five years ago, giving her control of his seat at King’s Point until their young son Florian came of age.

“Too long,” she answered, in a shrill voice. “The last of them went out a week ago and have not been heard from since. I’ve given up sending them, Amron. They’re all just being killed by dragons as soon as they’re spotted.”

Then we’re blind, Amron thought. The enemy could appear on the horizon at any moment. “Lord Randall Borrington has said the same. His scouts are no longer coming back from the Tidelands. He fears the Agarathi are marching across the land bridges to batter through the western gate.”

“They just might. With the Lumarans in support, the dragonfolk have more than enough men to attack through a half dozen gates if they please. Ships have been sailing up from the Crystal Bay for months; galleys, galleons, cogs, caravels, a number beyond count. The last scout who laid eyes upon the Trident said there were over a thousand sails there, maybe two. And those sails were not all red, black and gold; many bore the colours of the southern empire as well.” A fierce gust of wind assailed them, causing the silver and black banners flying above the Spear to billow and crack. Lady Brockenhurst squinted out to sea.

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