The northern road to Vellano wound upward through densely forested foothills, the air growing sharper with each mile. Their diminished company had traveled in relative silence since the marsh, each rider lost in their own thoughts, mourning fallen comrades or replaying the battle in their minds. Only nine knights remained of the original party, along with seven squires, Matteo among them, and Lynara herself.

  Four days had passed since the ambush. Four days of hard riding, minimal rest, and constant vigilance. Caldus pushed them relentlessly, sparing barely the time to clean up, eager to reach the safety of stone walls and armed men who didn't have to sleep with one eye open.

  The first sign of civilization appeared near midday: a weathered watchtower perched on a rocky outcropping. A horn sounded as they approached, its mournful note carrying across the valley.

  "They've spotted us," Caldus observed, his breath misting in the increasingly frigid air. "We'll have an escort soon."

  True to his prediction, a patrol of mounted soldiers appeared around a bend in the road less than an hour later. They wore the colors of the Vellano City guard, midnight blue and silver, and moved with the practiced precision of men who lived with the constant threat of raids from across the sea.

  Their captain, a broad shouldered woman with a face lined by wind and weather, raised a gauntleted hand in greeting as they approached.

  "Hail, Knights of Simon," she called, her northern accent thick but comprehensible. "We'd nearly given up hope of your arrival."

  Caldus nudged his mount forward. "Captain?"

  "Rowan," she supplied. "Captain of the third patrol. Elder Thorvald sent us to search for you three days past when you missed your expected arrival." Her eyes swept over their diminished numbers, noting the empty saddles and missing faces. "It seems our concerns were warranted."

  "We encountered difficulties in the Phaecian marsh," Caldus replied grimly. "The northern pass was closed to us."

  Captain Rowan's expression darkened. "The marsh? Few travel that way anymore, even in summer months. In autumn..." She shook her head. "You're fortunate to have survived at all."

  "Fortune had little to do with it," one of the knights muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

  Lynara, who had been observing the exchange silently, felt Rowan's gaze shift to her. The captain's eyes narrowed slightly, assessing the noblewoman with practiced suspicion.

  "Lady Brahe," Caldus gestured toward Lynara, a mounted quarter bow. "Our charge from across the Narrow Sea."

  "The Sverdish emissary," Rowan acknowledged with a curt nod that held neither warmth nor open hostility, but her attitude communicated itself through the lacking etiquette. "Your arrival has been much discussed in Vellano."

  The emphasis wasn't lost on Lynara. "I look forward to putting faces to those discussions, Captain," she replied with a polite smile.

  Rowan gave a short, humorless laugh. "I'm sure you'll have ample opportunity, my lady." She turned back to Caldus. "We'll escort you the rest of the way. The road ahead is secure enough, but unusual weather approaches from the north. Best we reach the city before it breaks."

  Lynara glanced upward. The sky above was clear, a pale wintry blue, but on the distant horizon, dark clouds had begun to gather over the jagged peaks that marked the edge of Federation territory.

  "Unusual how?" she inquired innocently.

  Rowan's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Ask the Theurgs," she replied dismissively. "All I know is my bones ache when bad weather comes, and it's coming faster than any storm should."

  They rode in formation now, the Vellani guards surrounding them in a loose protective circle. As they crested a final rise, the city of Vellano revealed itself, not in a valley as Lynara had expected, but perched atop a series of rugged plateaus, surrounded by steep cliffs on three sides.

  Lynara had visited many cities in her long existence, from the hanging gardens of ancient empires to the gleaming spires of kingdoms now lost to time. Yet Vellano possessed a stark beauty that commanded attention, a fortress city deep far from the coast, yet still bearing the unmistakable character of a maritime power.

  Unlike the rounded domes and graceful arches common in southern Federation cities, Vellano was all sharp angles and defiance. Slate gray towers thrust upward like drawn swords, their tops crowned with rooves designed by people who imagined rocks raining overhead, squat, angled structures that could deflect falling objects while still venting smoke through the chimney. The outer walls of dark stone rose directly from the cliff face in many places, nature and architecture fused into a single impenetrable barrier.

  Beyond the terraced city, glimpsed through gaps in the buildings, lay a massive lake that served as Vellano's link to maritime routes, a deep, glacier fed body of water that eventually connected to the sea through a series of rivers and canals, all heavily fortified and controlled by Vellani forces.

  "Not what you expected, my lady?" Caldus asked, noting her attentive study of the cityscape.

  "It's exactly as I imagined," she replied truthfully. "A city built by those who understand that beauty and strength need not be opposing forces."

  Something like approval flickered across the knight's face before he turned away.

  As they approached the outer gates, their small company merged with the steady stream of travelers, merchants, and farmers entering the city. At first, they were merely faces in the crowd, drawing only passing glances: northern folk were accustomed to the presence of Knights of Simon, if not particularly warm toward them.

  But recognition spread like ripples in a pond. A merchant loading crates paused, his eyes fixing on the knights' distinctive armor, then shifting to Lynara with a frown. He leaned to whisper to his assistant. A woman selling hot spiced wine from a cart stared openly, her ladle suspended mid pour as they passed. A group of children playing with wooden swords stopped their game to point and stare.

  "Word travels fast in a city under constant threat," Caldus murmured, just loud enough for Lynara to hear. His posture had stiffened, his jaw tensing as the main tell, hyper aware of the growing attention.

  They passed through the outer gates without incident, but the atmosphere grew heavier as they proceeded toward the inner city, the administrative and noble district where the Vellani family maintained their ancestral home and where the Order of Simon kept its northern headquarters.

  The streets narrowed here, forcing their company into a tighter formation. On either side, citizens of Vellano pressed closer, no longer content with stares and whispers. Faces hardened, expressions ranging from curiosity to undisguised hatred.

  "Make way for the knights!" Captain Rowan called, her voice carrying authority that the crowd reluctantly respected, creating just enough space for them to continue.

  But the whispers grew louder, becoming audible comments that floated through the air like poisoned arrows:

  "...bringing their kind into our city..."

  "...after what they did to Karina's family..."

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  "...blood drinkers and slavers..."

  A stone clattered on the cobblestones near Lynara's horse, thrown from somewhere in the gathering crowd. The animal snorted nervously but held steady, trained for battle conditions.

  "Keep moving," Caldus ordered, his voice tense. "Eyes forward."

  Captain Rowan signaled to her guards, who formed a tighter perimeter around the visitors. The pace quickened as the tension in the narrow street threatened to erupt into something more dangerous.

  As they approached the inner gates, massive iron banded wooden doors set into a second, higher wall, the crowd's agitation reached its peak. A man pushed to the front, his face contorted with grief and rage.

  "My son was on the stolen from me!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Lynara. "Taken by your kind for blood sport!"

  The accusation ignited the crowd. More voices joined his, a chorus of pain and hatred that swelled. Another stone flew, and then another, one glancing off a knight's shoulder plate.

  "Move!" Captain Rowan shouted, no longer concerned with decorum. Their company surged forward, breaking into a controlled gallop for the final stretch to the inner gates, which were already opening to receive them.

  They passed through just as the crowd's anger threatened to boil over into violence, the heavy gates swinging closed behind them with a resounding boom that echoed with finality.

  Inside the inner ward, a small delegation awaited them—nobles in rich furs and heavy woolens rather than the silks and satins of southern courts. At their center stood a woman perhaps in her late thirties, with pale blonde hair worn in an elaborate crown of braids. Her gown of midnight blue velvet was embroidered with silver thread that caught the light as she moved. Though not traditionally beautiful, her sharp features and piercing gray eyes conveyed intelligence and absolute authority.

  "Dismount and be welcome," she called, her voice carrying clearly across the courtyard. "I am Lady Ingrid Vellani."

  Their company obeyed, knights and squires alike swinging down from their horses with the weariness of those who had ridden too far and faced too much.

  Ingrid Vellani's gaze moved deliberately over the travel worn knights before settling on Lynara. A slight, calculating smile curved her lips.

  "Lady Brahe," she acknowledged with a formal incline of her head. "Welcome to Vellano. I trust your journey was... educational."

  "More so than anticipated, Lady Vellani," Lynara replied with perfect composure, offering an incline of the head. "Your city is as formidable as its reputation suggests."

  Something like approval flickered in Ingrid's eyes. "Come. You must be weary from your travels. We can speak more comfortably inside."

  She gestured toward the city hall, a grand structure of dark stone and stained glass that dominated one side of the inner courtyard. As their party moved in that direction, servants appeared to take charge of their horses, and guards positioned themselves discreetly but noticeably around the perimeter.

  The interior of the city hall offered a welcome respite from the cold and tension outside. A great hearth dominated one wall of the main chamber, its fire casting dancing light across polished stone floors and heavy wooden furniture built to last generations. Tapestries depicting naval battles and heroic defenses against northern invaders adorned the walls, their colors rich despite their obvious age.

  Ingrid led them to a side chamber, more intimate but no less impressive. A long table of dark wood gleamed in the light from tall windows, set with silver goblets and pitchers of what proved to be spiced wine, a northern specialty brewed with cinnamon, cloves, and other spices traded at great expense from southern provinces.

  "Please, refresh yourselves," Ingrid invited, taking her place at the head of the table. "You've had a long journey through difficult terrain."

  They had barely settled when the door burst open. An elderly man in priest's robes strode in, his face flushed with emotion and purpose.

  "Is it true?" he demanded without preamble. "A Sverdish noble within our walls? And not just any, but one of the Brahe !?"

  "Father Gregor," Ingrid acknowledged with barely concealed irritation. "This is a private meeting."

  "There can be no privacy when the security of our souls is at stake," the priest retorted. He turned accusatory eyes on Lynara. "The Brahes have been slavers and cannibals for generations. Their raids have orphaned hundreds of our children. And now we welcome one to break bread with us!"

  Before anyone could respond, the door opened again to admit another figure, this one commanding instant respect through presence alone.

  Elder Thorvald was a bear of a man despite his advanced years, broad shouldered and with a straight back, with a full beard streaked with gray and eyes like chips of winter ice. He wore the distinctive armor of the Knights of Simon beneath a heavy fur cloak, though subtle differences marked it as belonging to one of higher rank than even Caldus.

  "Your devotion to our people does you credit, Father," Thorvald said, his voice a rumbling bass that filled the chamber without need for volume. "But your timing leaves much to be desired."

  "Elder Thorvald," the priest acknowledged, with the barest minimum of deference. "Surely you of all people understand the risk. You've fought their kind for decades."

  "I have," Thorvald agreed calmly. "Which is why I understand the value of diplomacy as well as steel." He crossed to the table, claiming a seat near Caldus. "Or would you prefer eternal war? More widows? More orphans?"

  Father Gregor's righteous anger seemed to deflate somewhat, though his eyes still smoldered with resentment. "I serve God first, Elder. Before any earthly authority."

  "Then serve Him through prayer and guidance, as is your calling," Thorvald replied firmly. "Leave matters of state to those appointed to handle them."

  The priest retreated, though not without a final venomous glance at Lynara. "The people won't stand for this. Mark my words." With that, he departed, the door closing heavily behind him.

  An uncomfortable silence settled over the chamber until Thorvald broke it with a direct question to Caldus.

  "Your journey was delayed," he observed. "And your numbers reduced."

  "We have much to report, Elder," Caldus replied gravely. "The northern pass was impossible. We were forced through the Phaecian marsh, where we encountered resistance."

  A flicker of alarm crossed Thorvald's weathered features. "Marsh masters?"

  "Yes, and in unprecedented numbers. They had prepared an ambush specifically for us, it seemed."

  "More concerning," Caldus continued, "is that the marsh itself appears to have expanded beyond its traditional boundaries. The old trade road is now partially submerged in places where maps show it should be well clear of wetlands."

  This revelation sent a ripple of murmurs through the chamber. Lady Ingrid leaned forward, clearly recognizing the significance of this information.

  "First the pass, now the marsh," she mused. "Our access to the southern provinces grows more tenuous by the season." She glanced at Lynara. "One might almost suspect deliberate isolation."

  "If you're implying Sverdish involvement, Lady Vellani," Lynara replied evenly, "I would point out that such expansion serves no one's interests, Lizards make for poor trading partners."

  "True enough," Thorvald interjected. "The creatures have no loyalty beyond their swamp." He turned to Caldus. "You'll need to provide a full report. Maps, details of the encounter, everything you observed."

  "Of course, Elder," Caldus replied. "I've kept detailed records throughout our journey."

  "Good." Thorvald nodded. "Report to the Order's compound after you've rested. The matter of the marsh requires immediate attention."

  Lady Ingrid, who had been observing the exchange with calculating eyes, seized the moment to advance her own agenda.

  "As for accommodations," she said smoothly, "Ser Caldus and his knights will naturally be quartered in the Order's compound. As for Lady Brahe..." She turned to Lynara with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "We have prepared chambers for you in the east wing of the Vellani manor. You will be my personal guest."

  The offer was delivered as a statement rather than a question. Lynara recognized it for what it was, an opportunity for close observation rather than a gesture of hospitality. Still, it presented advantages she hadn't anticipated.

  "You honor me with your generosity, Lady Vellani," she replied with a perfect curtsy. "I look forward to learning more about your beautiful city under your guidance."

  Caldus straightened, a slight frown creasing his brow. "With respect, Lady Vellani, Lady Brahe remains under the protection and supervision of the Order of Simon by command of the Holy See. Our mission—"

  "Is to ensure her safe delivery to the capital," Ingrid finished for him. "A goal we share, Ser Caldus. But surely now that you've reached Vellano, the lady deserves comforts appropriate to her station? Unless you believe your squires' quarters suitable for a noblewoman?"

  "The lady's comfort is not my primary concern," Caldus countered, his voice level but firm. "My duty is to—"

  "Your duty," Thorvald interrupted, "is to report on the marsh and prepare for the next stage of your journey." His tone was gentle but brooked no argument. "Lady Vellani's offer is both generous and politically astute. The Sverdish emissary will be safer under her protection than anywhere else in the city, given the reception we witnessed today."

  Caldus looked as though he might argue further, but a subtle shake of Thorvald's head silenced him. "As you say, Elder," he conceded, though his expression revealed his reservations.

  "Excellent," Ingrid declared, rising from her seat. "Then it's settled. Lady Brahe will join me at the manor, while you knights attend to your duties." She turned to Lynara. "My steward will show you to your chambers once we've concluded here. I imagine you'll want to rest before this evening's gathering."

  "Gathering?" Lynara inquired.

  "A small welcome dinner," Ingrid explained. "Nothing elaborate, given the circumstances, but the leading families of Vellano should be introduced to our... distinguished visitor." Her tone suggesting a long night ahead.

  As the meeting concluded and preparations were made for their respective departures, Lynara caught Caldus watching her with an unreadable expression. When their eyes met, he inclined his head slightly, a gesture that might have been simple acknowledgment, or perhaps a subtle warning.

  Outside, the first snowflakes had begun to fall, delicate harbingers of the storm to come. A cold wind swept down from the mountains, carrying with it the scent of pine.