Dragh urged his horse on, squeezing with his thighs as his mount, which he purchased from a stable just outside the western gate of Landor at an outrageous price.

The owner had haggled a price that would have bought Dragh a house in Landor. But the man knew Dragh needed the horse. So he paid it anyways. He’d been fuming as he handed over the coin, but he reminded himself, it needed to be done. He had to get to his son, to his daughter. He knew the Council wanted them gone. But until now, he didn’t know why.

The Sunborns were getting too powerful. The Compact was meant to bring peace, to empower the Council. But Landor had grown influential. Even his father, Kallen had grown their trade routes before Harin’s ascension. The men from the East, the failed coup by his uncle, it was all the Council trying to snuff out the last bloodline of the empire.

Dragh knew what needed to be done. Knowledge provided him the power he needed to win. The blade would be the tool of his justice.

The Sixth and Eighth Legions were camped west, between the Skellen Pass and Landor. On his journey to Cinforths Pass he would collect them. He’d trained General Hasper and Eris. Good men each of them. Loyal to the Sunborn line.

The sun was high in the sky, by Dragh’s estimates it was just after mid day. He’d been riding on the road west for days now. He hoped to make it to the Legion’s camp within the hour.

The road west had improved over the years, a mud path once, now a hard packed road wide enough for a carriage to move on from Landor, the sea to the Skellen Pass.

Dragh wished he could speak with Harin, tell him what he knew.

He hoped that The Council did not already have it’s hooks in his boy, that he was safe with the Praetorians, with the Fourth, the Eagles.

—-

“State your name!” The guard called out to Dragh.

Dragh smiled, he was no longer in Landor, no longer dealing with the city guard. He’d not fool his own.

“Nathan! How in Zufiers teeth are you still posted on watch? One bad game of dice and you were relegated for life?” Dragh badgered the guardsmen in front of him.

The young man smiled wide. “General! I told them I didn’t rig it, wasn’t my fault them dice went to the right,”

Dragh clapped Nathan on the back, the young man a brute, shoulders doubly as wide as Dragh’s. “You would have made a fine addition to the Second my boy. Fine addition,”

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Dragh thought back on the old Legion, the Second. Not for the first time, he cursed the memory of his Uncle for killing most of the men he’d served with. After the Eighth, the Second had become family. Hemmelle, Geral, Pello and Cello had helped to bring his Uncle to justice, but they’d paid a steep price for it, a price of blood.

“Lo, General!” A call went up from the men inside of the camp as Dragh made his way through the center of camp. All Landorian Army camps were set up in the same way. Four side, four gates four main pathways from the center. Towers on each corner. The troops camped in their tents, multiple men to a tent. The cook centered the camp, with the Commanders ‘Tet in the center of the camp.

Dragh walked through the sea of tents, saying help to soldiers he knew, nodding to those who saluted him that he didn’t know. His legs were tired from the journey, his horse shadowing his pace.

He felt his age, old. He’d been living in army camps for most of his adult life. The occasional trip home to Landor, but these walls of earth and timber, thewy ere what he knew.

“General! A welcome sight!” A voice called out.

Dragh smiled, stopping in his track and turning to the tents.

Sat around a campfire with his men surrounding him while he ate was the General of the Third Legion, The Spears.

“General Hasper!” Dragh shouted.

Men cheered at the reunion.

“Kiever’s leg it is good to see you,” Hasper pulled Dragh into an embrace as he came close to the fire.

Hugging Hasper was like hugging a bear. He was enormous, engulfing Dragh.

Dragh laughed and clapped the man on the back. Only Hasper could greet his superior like this, his men like this. Dragh had once asked him why he did not salute, why he was so familiar with the men. He’d replied, he was a killer, just like them, he’d just been promoted.

“Cello sent word when The Dragon Legion passed us to the south. Tell me true, are we marching west?”

“Where is Eris? I will speak it you both,” Dragh asked.

Hasper laughed, both hands on his belly, a full body laugh that shook him. “That old toad is in the command tent, reading!”

Dragh looked around at the men collected around the campfire. All of them watched Dragh and Hasper. All of them waited, on the edge of their seats, on the balls of their feet.

“Do they know?” Dragh asked, looking Hasper in the eye.

Hasper jutted out his chin, mirth in his eyes. “My men, Eris’ men, they are our lifeblood, of course the know,”

Dragh nodded, grinning. “Good,”

Hesper’s smiled widened, he looked around to the men who had begun trickling in around them.

Dragh followed his eyes. Men of the Sixth, Hasper, The Eighth Eris’ had filtered through the tents, filling the spaces between them. It was quiet, none spoke. The soldiers stood, trees in a forest of steel and leather.

“Men and women of Landor! Dragh roared.

The men cheered, raising their fists in the air.

Dragh put his hands up, splaying his fingers. “I come to you with tidings of WAR!”

The men cheered again, more of them pushing into area around where Hasper and his men had gathered that evening. The tents were swamped with men, as far as Dragh could see now. He kept turning slowly, making sure to throw his voice into the crowd of men and women around him.

“The Council has pushed our King to the west, he goes to war with the Horde!” Dragh paused, letting it sink in.

None alive had truly battled the Horde. They knew only that the Horde was a menace, one that had been quiet for a generation.

“The Council pushed the King out into the West, and there they will kill him, to try and end the Sunborns! What they did not account for is YOU and the people of Landor. We will not take this betrayal, we will not take this betrayal. We will take the fight to them, take it to the very Council who betrays us. We go to the aid of the King!”

“Murderers!”

“Betrayers!”

“Aye, they betray us! The signed Compact is what they betray and they betray every oath taken to them to keep this land safe!” Dragh fed off the shouts from the legions.

“How will we get through the Pass!”

Dragh had been waiting for this moment, the momentum of his speech taking hold.

“We will do what men did before us! What our forefathers did in the time before the Skellen Pass.”

Dragh paused again, turning, looking men and women of the legions in the eye. He wanted their attention.

“We will cross Cinforths Pass! We will do what none have done for generations! We will catch them in the West, destroy them and save the crown of Landor!”

The men around Dragh cheered again.

“HIC SUNT DRACONES!” Dragh shouted, thrusting the blood dragon tattooed to his arm into the air.

“HIC SUNT DRACONES!” A wave of sound washed over them, the army cheering the battle cry of the Dragon Legion.