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Dedication

To my wife, Sam, who was calm when I needed it, confident when I wasn’t, and helped salvage what would become of this new trilogy.

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CHAPTER 1

CYRUS

All his life, Cyrus Lythan had been told his parents’ armada was the greatest in the world, unmatched by any fleet from the mainland continent of Gadir. It was the pride of his family, the jewel of the island kingdom of Thanet. Standing at the edge of the castle balcony, his hands white-knuckling the balustrade, Cyrus watched their ships burn and knew it for a lie.

“Their surprise will only gain them so much,” said Rayan. The older man and dearest family friend stood beside Cyrus as the fires spread across the docks. “Hold faith. Our gods will protect us.”

Smoke blotted out the harbor, but along the edges of the billowing black he saw the empire’s ships firing flaming spears from ballistae mounted to their decks. Thanet’s boats could not counter such power with their meager archers, not even if they had fought on equal numbers. Those numbers, however, were far from equal. Thanet’s vaunted armada had counted fifty ships in total, though only thirty had been in the vicinity of Vallessau when two hundred imperial ships emerged from the morning fog, their hulls painted black and their gray sails marked with two red hands clenched in prayer.

“Shouldn’t you be down there with the rest of the paladins?” Cyrus asked. “Or are you too old for battle?”

The man’s white plate rattled as he crossed his arms. He was a paladin of Lycaena, a holy warrior who’d dedicated his life to one of Thanet’s two gods. It was she and Endarius whom the island now relied upon to withstand the coming invasion. The castle was set upon the tallest hill in the city of Vallessau, protected by a wide outer wall that circled the base of its foundational hill. Thanet’s soldiers massed along the outer wall, their padded leather armor seeming woefully inadequate. Paladins of the two gods gathered in the courtyard between the outer wall and the castle itself. Despite there being less than sixty, the sight of them gave Cyrus hope. The finely polished weapons of those men and women shone brightly, and the morning light reflected off their armor, be it the gilded chain of Endarius’s paladins or the white plate of Lycaena’s. As for the god and goddess, they both waited inside the castle.

“You are brave to call me old when you yourself are not yet a man,” Rayan said. His skin was as dark as his hair was white, and when he smiled, it stretched his smartly trimmed beard. That smile was both heartfelt and fleeting. “His Highness ordered me to protect you.”