Chapter 41. Thirst for Blood

“...Ragzal, the sons of dragons are not men.”

--Tamarh

***

The stampede around the gate of Perth raises clouds of dust as the scorching sun tears through patches in the clouds, flogging us from above. My heart races, a mixture of panic and excitement.

Although I know that my army is no match for the White Neems, I am looking forward to an upset, as I have had many months to strategize. My horse gallops through the disarray, with my guards trailing me, clad in silver armor and flying the red banner of our King.

I am decked in Micah’s golden armor, as I have refused to let it go, for it reminds me of him, and I believe that by wearing it, I make up for his tragic demise and restore his honor, for he was fated to die like an extraordinary warrior in battle, not like a chicken.

A gold-plated helmet is drawn over my head, one