The iron-banded gates of the waystation groaned open, and the expedition spilled onto the road like blood from a fresh wound.
Soren's gelding shifted beneath him, sensing his unease as they filed into formation behind Ashgard's lead riders. The shard pulsed cold against his chest, a constant reminder of secrets carried into danger.
Ahead, the noble contingents arranged themselves in their paired formations. House Dravien's midnight blue banners fluttered alongside Trescan crimson, the knights of both houses riding with spines rigid as sword blades, gazes fixed forward to avoid acknowledging their unwanted companions. Their mutual disdain hung almost visible in the morning air.
"Look at those two," Kaelor muttered, nodding toward the Dravien and Trescan leaders. "Sitting so straight they must have swords up their asses."
The Karvath and Lanther pairing fared little better. Their green and silver banners tangled in the breeze as knights bickered over proper spacing.
