The carriage advanced tirelessly toward Fort Frontier, stopping only when absolutely necessary to give the steeds a rest and allow them to eat. Thanks to that forced pace, a journey that would normally have taken more than two weeks was completed in just one.
Dyan peered out the window. On the horizon, the towers of Frontier rose, a stone colossus that dominated the wall separating the two kingdoms. Its silhouette cut into the sky like a wound, and the Wilfrost banners waved defiantly from the top of the walls. From the turrets, the sentinels looked like mere dark dots moving against the morning light.
When they were within bowshot, one of them shouted: "Open the gates! Royal carriage!"
The heavy reinforced wooden doors began to open with a metallic groan, letting the cart into the courtyard. As soon as he got out, two familiar figures ran to meet him.
"My lord Dyan," Kermit greeted, extending his hand to help him down.
"The Archmaster sent a raven announcing your arrival," Orlec added, waiting by the carriage door.
Dyan accepted his comrade's support to descend. "It's good to see you in such good spirits. How are the others?"
Kermit lowered his voice, looking around cautiously. "We're holding our own... but this isn't the place to talk."
"That's right, Captain," Orlec said in a grave tone. "Besides, the other officers are waiting for you."
"Then guide me."
They crossed the practice yard. The movement there was incessant: knights shot arrows at targets near the wall, others crossed training swords, and some simply released tension in hand-to-hand combat surrounded by comrades who gambled and laughed so as not to think too much. From the top of the barbican, the sentinels raised their hands in greeting, and Dyan couldn't help but think that maybe they were mistaking him for someone else.
The bustle inside the fort was greater than he had expected. Frontier was practically a fortified city: blacksmith shops that never stopped roaring, barracks, stables, warehouses, strategy halls, and officer quarters. It even had underground passages, its own prison, and, in the heart of it, the hall where the mana stone that supported the defensive barrier was guarded. Dyan had been there once before, accompanying Edictus the previous season, but that visit had been brief and of no great importance.
They entered the main tower, whose interior was somber, illuminated only by torches and by narrow skylights that seemed to swallow more shadow than light.
"My lord," Kermit whispered as they walked down a stone corridor, "you should know this: the leader of the Shalmak Tower is not in a good mood. Two days ago, she lost one of her own, defending an advance of Captain Riverside."
"Anything else I should know?" Dyan asked, imitating his comrade's caution.
Orlec stepped forward a few paces. "Yes. There are familiar faces for you here... but many also hope to get a closer look at the famous 'White Lightning.'"
Dyan raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Your reputation precedes you, my lord," Kermit explained. "The news from the north spread quickly through the kingdom. Although I warn you that some stories are more embellished than a court feast."
"Even so, we haven't done badly thanks to you," Orlec added with a twisted smile. "They even gave us rooms in the tower, not just simple tents."
Finally, they stopped in front of a door guarded by a soldier in light armor.
"We'll wait for you in the courtyard, my lord. The rest of the company will be glad to see you safe and sound," Kermit said.
"As soon as I can, I'll meet you," Dyan replied, taking the letter sealed with the royal emblem from his robe.
The guard examined it with a stiff gesture before allowing him to pass. The iron hinges squeaked as the door opened.
"With your permission, Commander," the guard announced in a firm voice. "Lord Dyan Halvest, Captain of the Scabia mages, sent by His Majesty."
Dyan entered behind her. The air, heavy with the smoke of a brazier and cheap wine, enveloped him immediately.
"Come in, Captain," said a woman with long black hair, seated at the head of the table in heavy armor that gave her an imposing presence. "Look what His Majesty sends us! A war hero before my eyes." The Commander said with sarcasm. "Leave us, guard; there are still matters to discuss here."
"At your command, Commander," the soldier replied, saluting before withdrawing.