Kargan left the terrace and strode back into the audience chamber, with Javid following close on his heels. As always, ever since Malakai’s capture, Kargan scowled when he saw the tapestry with the map of the seven cities of the Ilean Empire. Passing the throne, he leveled his gaze on one of the palace guards standing with his spear held in front of his chest.

‘You,’ Kargan ordered. ‘Go and find me a messenger.’

The guard bowed. ‘At once, Great King.’

Kargan impatiently paced the length of the throne room while he waited. He glanced at Javid, wondering if his adviser and bodyguard was curious about what he was about to do, but the man’s expression was too inscrutable to know.

‘Great King?’ The messenger finally entered. A lanky youth with a neatly trimmed beard, he had the long legs and muscled flanks of a runner, and would be as capable on horseback as he was on foot.

Kargan faced the messenger, glowering at him, but inwardly pleased when he saw that the youth’s gaze remained steady. ‘I want you to make all haste to General Rhian, or failing him, Captain Dhuma.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘You know where they are?’

‘With the army. On the shores of the Shadrian Passage.’

‘Good lad. Tell them that unless there’s a storm to end all storms, they are to cross the passage with all haste. Tell them I understand it’s best to have fair weather, but every day they wait is costing the treasury too much money. Understood?’

‘Of course, Great King. When should I leave?’

‘Immediately!’ Kargan barked.

‘Great King,’ Kargan heard Javid say softly, the words meant for his ears alone.

Kargan rounded on Javid. But then he saw that Javid was looking at the arched entrance to the audience chamber. Following Javid’s gaze, Kargan’s eyes opened wide.

A palace guard was leading an older man into the room. With weathered skin and sharp features, the newcomer clutched his helmet under his arm and wore a captain’s insignia over his well-worn leather armor. He bowed when he entered, and Kargan frowned when he saw heavy shadows under his eyes; he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

‘Dhuma?’ Kargan asked incredulously. ‘What in the names of all the gods are you doing here?’

‘King of Kings . . .’ Dhuma hesitated. ‘I came personally to bring important news.’

‘Leave us.’ Kargan swept his chin at the messenger. ‘Ignore what you heard.’

The youth ran out of the room, leaving Kargan facing Dhuma. Kargan raised an eyebrow expectantly.

‘News?’ Kargan growled. ‘You crossed the passage? General Rhian is ill? Well, what is it?’

‘The barges . . . They’re all gone. Every last ship . . . burned to ash.’

Kargan felt heat come to his face. ‘Burned? By whom?’

Dhuma swallowed but stood fast. ‘While the barges were still in Verai, there was a raid. People . . . People on the backs of dragons. They set them all on fire.’