Ahsane sat astride a dark horse, gazing at the mass of strange beasts that were coming at him with half amusement, half sheer surprise and a frozen smirk tugging at his lips.
He stole a furtive glance at the heterogeneous multitude that had congregated that early morning at the frozen shore. All immersed in a solemn contemplation that mimicked his own.
Line after line of immobile masked soldiers were assembled from left to right across the gelid coast, calmly waiting for the Yahurian mother’s signal, as did the mounted infantry of the olive-attired monarch and his wife.
It had been her… the Mavaerian queen, who had suggested that the Kephian ride one of those magnificent creatures after noticing how well he had handled himself the first time he tried.
“You are natural!” – She had tol
