The unthinkable had happened.

Against all odds, Escalon was winning.

*

Duncan walked alongside the Esephus harbor, joined by Seavig, Anvin, Arthfael and dozens of their men, all inspecting the damage. The smell of smoke hung heavy in the air as the Pandesian fleet still burned, their embers sparking in the night, punctuated by the occasional whoosh of a beam as a mast collapsed. It was like the entire harbor was alight in a great bonfire.

All about them Duncan’s and Seavig’s men corralled the hundreds of captive Pandesian soldiers, shepherding them, in shackles, toward the fort’s dungeon. His men were also occupied with reaching over the harborside with long hooks, pulling in floating debris, valuable treasures and weaponry; they occasionally pulled in a floating corpse, too, before letting it go.

Duncan looked all up and down the shoreline, littered with bloated corpses, the greatest destruction he’d ever seen to Pandesian soldiers, and probably the greatest damage he’d ever inflicted on an invading army—and he felt a great sense of satisfaction.

Torches were extinguished, one by one, as the night sky slowly gave way to a breaking dawn, the sky brilliant with a million colors, lightening with each step they took. Duncan felt as if the world were being reborn.

“It is a thing of wonder,” said Seavig, strolling beside Duncan, his voice low and gruff.

Duncan turned and looked at his old friend, with his long, wild black hair, beard and bushy eyebrows, just as he remembered him. He looked windswept, his face chaffed from too many days at sea under the open sun.

“What is that?” Duncan asked.

“What speed and surprise can do in battle,” Seavig replied. “It can turn prepared men into objects of fear; it can allow a hundred to defeat a thousand.”

He turned to Duncan.

“You were always the greatest of us all,” he added. “What you did here, on this night, shall be recorded for all time. You have freed our great city, a city that I did not think could be freed. And you have done it in the face of a vast empire, knowing that vengeance and death would be a certainty.”

Seavig clasped a hand on his shoulder.

“You are a true warrior,” he added, “and a true friend. My people thank you. I thank you.”

Duncan shook his head humbly.

“What I did,” he replied, “I did for justice. For freedom. No more than you did yourself. I did what the old king should have done years ago. What I myself should have done years ago. And we would not have won tonight, do not forget, if it hadn’t been for you and your men.”

Seavig stopped and sighed.

“And now?” Seavig asked.