And each ship carried hundreds of Legionaries armored in plate and chain, laden with sword and shield and javelin.Rykon’s mind raced. How had the Imperial fleet bypassed the coral mazes guarding the harbor? Or the Kyracian fleet itself? They had been betrayed. Then the first ship bumped against the quay, and Rykon had no more time for brooding. Legionaries stormed ashore, shields raised, swords extended, moving with the clockwork discipline the Third Empire of Nighmar instilled in its soldiers. He saw the confidence in their eyes, and why not? He was only one man, in a gray robe the color of the sea, and they were armored veterans. Rykon drew his sword over his shoulder and took the hilt in both hands. The blade gleamed at the edges and darkened to the color of coal in its center. A sudden murmur went through the Legionaries, and he heard the word “stormdancer” repeated.Rykon smiled.The centurion bawled an order, and the Legionaries raised their javelins. And Rykon moved, drawing upon his power.The sorcery of air rushed through him, giving him the speed of the wind.
