The southern gates of City Titan stood open beneath the Lion Banner, the winter wind whipping across the stone walls as the small caravan from Granada approached.
Al-Hakam rode at the front on a sleek Arabian stallion, emerald robes fluttering, fifty Mamluks in perfect formation behind him.
Al-Hakam dismounted in the outer courtyard, handing the reins to a waiting stable hand while his Mamluks formed a protective half-circle.
He adjusted his robes, eyes scanning the towering black-iron walls and the distant smoke from the forges, a small smile tugging at his lips.
He had come expecting new blueprints, fresh alliances, and perhaps word of some desperate French duke begging at Ragnar's feet. What he did not expect was the young man standing beside the Iron Father on the steps of the great hall.
Ragnar stood waiting with Louis the Stammerer at his side. Gyda and Leofric flanked them, the Lion Banner snapping overhead.
