A small island barred the way to the massive harbour. Barely an outcrop, it jutted out only a few feet above the deep blue ocean. Miro’s breath caught when he saw the great marble statue of a man standing astride the island, as tall as five ships like the Infinity one on top of the other. The huge form seemed to be bursting out of the water.
The Sentinel, it was called, famous throughout Merralya. As the Infinity drew closer, Miro could make out more detail. The man wore a strange headpiece, like a raised crown, with a rune decorating its front; something like a raj hada, but simpler. The man’s expression was stern, but noble. His hair beneath the headpiece flowed down to his shoulders, and his features were soft, almost female. He had one arm raised, pointing slightly upwards, as if at the stars or the setting sun. Miro didn’t know what the man was trying to say — the other soldiers said he was ancient, old when Seranthia was just a small fishing town. Once again, Miro didn’t know what to believe.
He saw more ships ahead and behind them, and even a few Buchalanti ships. Seranthia was a busy trade port, with countless mouths to feed and a population hungry for exotic goods.
Passing the Sentinel, they entered the great harbour, passing rocky headlands to either side. Instantly the ocean smoothed, the ship’s motion grew calmer, and they slowed. Miro heard the chant of the Sailmaster increase in volume and some of the runes on the sails glowed as they were activated. The ship instantly picked up speed, whatever the Sailmaster was doing, it was working. They soon overtook the ship in front of them; the High Lord was paying the traders well for speed.
A straight grey line stretched from one end of the horizon to the other. Miro frowned, squinting and trying to focus his eyes. What was it? Then he drew back as he realised what it was — the Wall.
He saw the soldier Tuok moving about down below, carrying crates up from the hold. "Ho, Tuok! Is that really the Wall?"
"Sure is, lad. Soon you’ll be seeing much more than that. Now get down here and give us a hand."
Grinning, Miro gathered himself and leapt from the crow’s nest, catching hold of a spar as he fell.
Tuok winced. The sailors — men and women both — barely looked up from what they were doing.
Miro swung off the spar and slid down a yard, burning his hands slightly from the friction. Finally he landed on the deck triumphantly.
"Well done," Tuok said. "Now get to work."
7
They should have more young boys among their bladesingers. If you’re no good in battle, you might as well be pleasing to the ear.
— Emperor Xenovere V at the surrender of Altura, 524 Y.E.
THERE were so many new sights that Miro was constantly turning his head first one way and then another. Tuok said he was making him dizzy, and to please stop before he put his fist in Miro’s ear. Miro calmed — a little.
The harbour formalities had been lengthy. At one point Miro saw Captain Sloan discretely hand over some money to the harbour master, although Miro had no idea why. He decided to ask Tuok, who was busy hauling crates.
"It’s the way they are here in Tingara," Tuok grunted. "Everything comes at a price."
"But we’re an official delegation! Our High Lord is with us. Why do we pay?"
"We pay so that the harbour master does a good job, and promptly gives us our papers so that we can be on our way."
"But..."
"Enough, Miro. You’ll find out soon enough."
Now they were being led through the streets of the port district and into the city proper. Word of Raj Altura’s arrival had quickly reached the Emperor and an escort had soon arrived.
Miro didn’t like the look of the imperial legion.
The legionnaires were huge men with uniformly shaved heads., and rather than wearing their raj hada on their clothing, the sun and star of Raj Tingara was tattooed into their skin.
Some carried pikes, twelve feet long and razor sharp. These were Alturan-made, and the runes were familiar to Miro’s eyes. Their armour was also enchanted — heavy steel covered with arcane symbols, glowing softly. Miro was surprised, the essence cost meant it was standard practice in Altura to leave enchanted armour deactivated unless actually in combat. Either the Emperor was flush with essence, or he was showing off his power for the Alturans’ benefit. Perhaps it was both.
At their waist, each legionnaire carried a few prismatic orbs and one even had a mortar strapped to his back — weapons made and sold by the artificers of Loua Louna.