"Listen to me carefully," he roared with a voice reminiscent of a raging volcano. "A bird arrived urgently from Port-écume signaling ships offshore. The words sent by Steward St?venson lead us to believe this is a planned attack. Why? Because she reports that neither of the two towers in Crimson Crescent Bay were able to raise the alarm. Moreover, she mentions dark sails. No known nation uses that color."

  "Pirates?" suggested Dragar.

  "Pirates don't neutralize two watchtowers without an alarm, Lieutenant," Sel?s corrected him. "This is coordinated. Professional. The sentries were silenced before they even saw the ships... but how?"

  Ardahm raised a hand, cutting the question short.

  "I have no idea and I don't give a damn right now. What matters is what I know. We must immediately send initial reinforcements to support the port's defenses while the bulk of the infantry arrives via the West Road. We must act quickly. All of Solheim lives through this port, and if it falls, the kingdom could fall with it!"

  Lieutenant Di Fiorenze bent over a map of the kingdom, tracing a line along the canal connecting the capital to its port.

  "If your brothers push on the capstan like devils, the fastest way would be to send them via the canal, Captain. Two galleys are docked right now."

  "Are the sailors ready?"

  "They're already on the ships, Captain. We can set sail as soon as you command it."

  "Good."

  "How many soldiers can they transport?" asked the lieutenant of the Golden Lances.

  "I'd say a hundred each. And if we count the port guards, that should be enough to contain them."

  "Contain 'em? I can guarantee ya that if it's me landin' there, Di Fiorenze, there's no question of containin' 'em! So if ya'll allow it, Cap'tain, let me go there with my men. Only we know this port like the back of our hands, from the outer docks to the northern shore markets. We board with your brothers, we slit their throats, and we're back before tonight's supper."

  Sel?s crossed her arms, observing the unfurled map. Doubt marked her features.

  "Your knowledge of the area is a rough gem, Lieutenant Bjornhold, I grant you that. But you and your men have just returned from a mission. Fatigue shows on your faces, and charging without seeing the enemy is risky. As long as we know nothing more, whether it's their number or even their banner, we cannot rush in headlong. If it's just a horde of looters, which I strongly doubt, your axes will cleave them. But if you find yourself facing a disciplined legion, our first defense will end in tatters without even touching land."

  She took her katana without drawing it from its sheath, tapping its end on both shores of Port-écume.

  "Captain, wisdom would command us to send scouts, here and here. Swift shadows to examine their forces before our men rush into the unknown. Without that, we risk saving nothing and falling into their ambush."

  "Sorry Sel?s, but for once, and it burns my tongue to say it, I agree with the one-eyed man."

  Alessi placed a leather pouch on the map. A blackish powder escaped slightly from it.

  "What do we do if the enemy also has deflagration alchemy?"

  "You really think that..."

  "THE CHAINS?!" exclaimed Dragar, not letting Lieutenant H?lw?nd finish. "Are ya sayin' they could destroy the King's Chains? That's pure diamant?te, Alessi! Nothing in the world can break that!"

  "I know that well," he replied calmly. "But don't you find the timing too perfect? The Eclipse yesterday targeting the Orchards and now the port. This is just a simple supposition, however, we cannot afford not to consider it. My opinion would be to send this madman and his guys as quickly as possible."

  A grimace twisted the old man's cracked lips, his single eye gleaming with contained savagery.

  "By my uncle ?gor's beard, and I thought the day when ya'd agree with me would never come!"

  He heavily placed his two axes on the map.

  "The specter unit won't move as long as the King isn't in danger, and ya know it as well as I do. So enough useless chatter."

  Without waiting for his captain's order, he turned toward the crowd of squadron leaders.

  "REGG?S!!!! Run and fetch two hundred of our most bloodthirsty soldiers and meet us at the canal. NOW!!!"

  Immediately, the old man from the Northern lands felt a threatening aura weighing down his shoulders. Ardahm wasn't moving, but his eyes struck him down savagely.

  For a brief moment, the old warrior held that gaze before lowering his head slightly.

  "With all due respect, Cap'tain... the time we're wastin' here is lives lost over there."

  "Hmph," grunted the Stone Skin before continuing toward Dragar's henchman. "Regg?s!"

  "Yes, Captain?"

  "You heard your chief. Go!"

  "Yes, Captain!"

  The colossus's fists loosened slightly, the wood groaning under the released pressure. However, his attention turned to a man located not far from Lieutenant Bjornhold's right-hand man, motionless near one of the columns, his silhouette covered in dust.

  "KNIGHT VAAN HART!" he bellowed angrily, pointing at him with his enormous finger. "APPROACH!"

  Siegfried advanced in total silence. Only the clacking of his boots against the flagstones resonated, all the warriors present turned toward him.

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  "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I ORDERED YOU TO LEAVE FOR FORT-OMBRE! EXPLAIN YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY!"

  "The horn called me back, Captain," he retorted, raising his chin, fist on his solar plexus, without any fear. "I swore an oath before Our God to protect Solheim at the cost of my life if necessary, so here I am. The convoys can wait if my kingdom is in danger."

  The leaders exchanged furtive glances. They knew how to recognize a paladin of Solar?s at first glance, and the man standing before their captain was one. A true Blade of the Sun God.

  The Stone Skin scrutinized his lieutenants, a fleeting smile splitting his lips.

  "Hmmmmm, I like this kid," he breathed before continuing. "But that's not your place, knight. Obey my orders and return to accomplish your mission before..."

  "CAPTAIN!" Lieutenant Di Fiorenze interrupted him, placing both hands on the wood so violently that the table nearly toppled. "Squadron VIII has young R?chard Desrosiers and his golden-beak among its members. I praised his abilities to you while forgetting to mention his greatest asset, Plume. Thanks to his raptor, we could scout Port-écume and obtain all the necessary information without losing a single soul and without being seen. It's an advantage we cannot neglect, believe me."

  His gaze fixed on his lieutenant's, Ardahm nodded, once.

  "You're talking about the young prodigy? The descendant of the founding women of the Solar Guard?" asked the chief of the Sun Shields, intrigued.

  The lieutenant nodded briefly in her direction.

  Damn! I really have a serious problem with faces. How did I fail to recognize the Desrosiers descendant? thought the N'zonki, frowning, wearied by his lack of physiognomy.

  With all his mass, he pivoted toward Siegfried.

  "Explain to me, knight. How can this boy and his bird do that?"

  Vaan Hart inclined his head.

  "My archer grew up with birds, in the heights of the Upper City. As a child, he bonded with a golden-beak, Plume. For whatever reasons, he manages to communicate with her through sentences, sharp whistles, gestures that she deciphers like an open book. She flies where he sends her, captures what we're tracking, and comes back to show him. She's already guided us on more than one mission in the Outskirts, Captain. She's lively, stealthy, and loyal. She's much more than a scout on foot in treacherous terrain like that, she's an ally I couldn't do without."

  "Reliable?"

  "On my life, Captain."

  The colossus nodded.

  While the leader of Squadron VIII was giving his explanations, in her corner, Lieutenant H?lw?nd was pensively touching the pommel of her katana, which was her way of thinking.

  Well, would you look at that... A golden-beak and the Desrosiers descendant in our ranks. It seems Solar?s had his reasons for bringing this squadron back to the capital, she pondered before speaking.

  "Lieutenant Bjornhold was right and I was wrong, Captain. We've wasted enough time in discussion. If the God of Suns brought Knight Vaan Hart back to us, it's to give us an advantage in this battle. In the best case, with our speed of movement, when we arrive at Port-écume, the enemy will have just set foot on our lands. The Golden Lances' knowledge of the area will be more than useful for a rapid advance. In the worst case, the enemy is already in place and will see us coming. However, with the information gleaned by the young archer, once again, Dragar's unit and their savagery would be our best option to break through their defensive line. Who else but them would have the madness to throw themselves into a wall of shields? Moreover, the young prodigy's agility with the bow would allow us to take down their units on high ground if there are any."

  With elegance, she pivoted toward the paladin.

  "If I'm not mistaken, the golden-beak is the fastest raptor in the kingdom. Please transmit a message to us as soon as you can. We'll wait for it before sending a second wave of adapted defense."

  "Understood, Lieutenant!"

  Dragar chuckled, his weapons clinking against his breastplate as he stowed them at his hips.

  "By my grandfather's stumps, a bird that talks with whistles! I like that, kid, I like that. It's twisted but clever! No more discussions that could put a druskal to sleep, the Golden Lances are leaving immediately! Does that suit you, Cap'tain?"

  The captain straightened to his full height, his mass casting a shadow over the entire table, and he swept the room with his gaze, stopping at each squadron leader.

  "Dragar, listen to me carefully."

  "Yes, Captain!"

  "Your Golden Lances board the galleys. Two hundred men, light equipment. Squadron VIII accompanies you. The raptor will give us the eyes, you'll be the fist."

  His voice swelled, resonating against the stone walls.

  "If the enemy plans to touch the King's Chains, you cut them to pieces for me. I want no mercy from you. No truce. You retake that port or you die trying."

  A tense silence filled the room.

  "Move before Port-écume is nothing but a memory! MAY SOLAR?S SEE YOU!"

  All the soldiers present, in unison, shouted in chorus.

  "MAY SOLAR?S SEE US!!!!"

  Their voices thundered like a wave of iron crashing against the walls, a unified cry so powerful it made the stone foundations tremble, the candles flickering in their holders as if caught in a storm.

  A fleeting calm settled, quickly broken by the scraping of the knights' boots, their hurried steps clacking on the flagstones. Dragar struck the platform one last time, knocking over an empty goblet that rolled with a sharp sound.

  Siegfried pivoted and climbed the steps four at a time, the Upper City air slapping his face.

  Outside, Regg?s was already shouting orders at the Golden Lances who were gathering in tight ranks.

  "TWO HUNDRED TO THE DOCKS! LET'S MOVE!"

  With his gaze, the paladin swept the surroundings. No one. Juuh'ma, Mei, and R?chard weren't there yet. As impatience began to take hold of him, suddenly, an enormous voice thundered in the distance, a voice he could recognize among thousands.

  "GET OUT OF THE WAY! MOVE ASIDE!"

  A crash of wheels on the cobblestones. A team burst at a gallop into the adjacent street, two foaming zu'hun pulling an empty merchandise cart that skidded dangerously. Juuh'ma held the reins with both hands, the beasts racing at a pace they should never have maintained.

  The cart stopped in front of the Index with a screech of wood and a cloud of dust.

  Mei and R?chard leaped from the back before it had even come to a complete stop, soaked in sweat, out of breath, Plume frantically beating her wings on the archer's shoulder. The Stone Skin jumped to the ground with a dull thud.

  "The... meeting?" panted R?chard, bent double.

  "Port-écume is under attack," Siegfried announced. "We're boarding with the Golden Lances. To the canal, now!"

  Juuh'ma straightened up, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

  "Information about the enemy?"

  "Unknown. Dark sails. We only know they took the Crimson Crescent towers without them raising the alarm."

  "Professionals," Mei hissed between breaths.

  The colossus turned toward a young soldier from the Upper City who was watching the scene, mouth agape.

  "We must leave this cart here. A good man will come to retrieve it."

  The soldier nodded vigorously.

  "Understood!"

  Siegfried set off. His three warriors followed in his footsteps, still out of breath but determined.

  In the distance, the docks were teeming with activity, Solheim was preparing to bite.