The Elven messenger departed at sunrise.
Mounted on a grey horse, he rode across the open ground beyond the siege lines, the horse’s hooves kicking up small clouds of dry dust.
In his hand flew a blue banner.
It was the indigo triangular flag the Elven army reserved for requesting talks between opposing forces.
When the sentries atop Clermont’s walls spotted the flag, several rubbed their eyes in disbelief.
The Elves had besieged the city for weeks.
Not once had they raised that banner.
The commander of Clermont was Orik.
He served as the Kingdom of Erhardt’s Fortress General and commanded fewer than three thousand exhausted defenders while guarding a city whose granaries were nearly empty.
When the messenger delivered the letter to the battlements, Orik was crouched inside the gatehouse, eating a bowl of barley porridge so thin he could see the bottom of the bowl.
He unfolded the letter.
After reading only two lines, he quietly set the bowl on the battlement.
“The Elves want a ceasefire.”
He turned the parchment over, checking for hidden enchantments or concealed conditions.
“Not peace.”
“A temporary suspension of attacks.”
“For discussions concerning some sort of frontier contact.”
His adjutant stood behind him.
A young Human officer whose face still carried traces of the acne from when he had been conscripted only two months earlier.
“General…
this could be a trap.”
Orik folded the letter and tucked it inside his coat.
He finished the last mouthful of porridge before handing the empty bowl to his adjutant.
“It could.”
“It could also be the only opportunity we’re going to get.”
“How much food do we have left?”
The adjutant hesitated.
“If we count the mouldy grain…”
“Ten days.”
Orik rose to his feet and brushed the dust from his knees.
He was in his early forties.
Grey streaks already marked his hair.
Two old sword scars crossed his face from forehead to chin.
One came from fighting Orcs on the northern frontier during his youth.
The other had been left by an Elven arrow during the current siege.
He walked to the battlements.
Far below stretched the white tents and blue banners of the Elven camp.
Beyond them…
Far beyond…
Rose the endless wall of rainforest.
He made his decision.
“Tell them…”
“I accept.”
“They may choose the time and place.”
At that same moment, Elyndra was reviewing supply routes around the siege fortifications with her advisers.
She read Orik’s reply only once.
No hidden conditions.
No attempt to delay negotiations.
Simply a straightforward acceptance.
She laid the letter beside the sand table.
This Human commander is either a fool…
…or a very intelligent man.
A fool gambled that the Elves would honour negotiations.
A clever commander gambled that every remaining grain inside Clermont had become priceless.
Either way…
He had accepted.
“Summon Lysandor.”
Moments later, the young reconnaissance captain entered the tent.
Morning dew still clung to his armour.
He had spent the entire night patrolling the rainforest’s edge.
Bloodshot eyes betrayed his exhaustion.
Yet he stood perfectly straight before his commander.
“I need you to return to the rainforest.”
Elyndra spoke without preamble.
“Two days from now.”
“At sunrise.”
“The meeting place will be the clearing between all three forces.”
“Two miles south of the siege lines.”
“One mile north of the rainforest.”
“A three-way conference.”
“Humans.”
“Elves.”
“Lizardmen.”
She picked up a small piece of polished wood from beside the sand table.
With charcoal she drew three symbols.
At the top…
The blue star of the Elves.
At the bottom…
A steel gauntlet.
She could not remember Erhardt’s official military crest, so she simply sketched an armoured glove to represent Humanity.
Between them…
She drew a single scale.
She handed him the wooden token.
“Show this to them.”
“They should understand.”
He wanted to ask whether the Humans knew anything about the Lizardmen.
He stopped himself.
The official letter never mentioned them.
It referred only to discussions concerning frontier contact.
Which meant…
As far as the Human commander knew…
This would simply be a meeting between Humans and Elves.
A fast horse could cover the distance between the Elven camp and the rainforest in less than an hour.
Lysandor galloped across the plains.
Golden grass blurred past on either side.
As he entered the shadow of the rainforest’s final line of trees…
Cold Lizard Riders surrounded him once again.
But this time…
Everything felt different.
“Elf.”
“Back again.”
One Cold One Rider emerged from behind a tree.
He spoke in the Lizardmen tongue.
Lysandor now recognised enough words to understand.
Without speaking, he raised the wooden token.
The rider studied the three symbols.
Then tilted his head.
Two more riders dropped silently from the trees.
They positioned themselves on either side of him.
Not as captors.
As escorts.
Golden Tower gleamed beneath the midday sun.
Its pale grey walls looked dry and solid.
Above the gate, the great serpent emblem of Sotek watched the southern road.
The white crystal eyes sparkled brilliantly beneath the sunlight, as though observing every traveller who approached.
As Lysandor passed beneath the gate…
Several Skink craftsmen transporting stone paused to look at him.
One recognised him immediately.
It was the small Skink that had sat outside his prison cell, happily drawing pictures on the ground.
The little Skink raised a claw and waved enthusiastically.
Its tail swayed from side to side.
Lysandor hesitated.
Then smiled faintly…
And waved back.
Kroq-Gar sat upon the central stone platform in the plaza.
Cross-legged.
Before him rested a massive stone slab nearly as tall as a man.
Across its surface had been carved a detailed map of the northern rainforest.
Tekuna crouched beside him, marking the locations of recently destroyed Chaos camps with charcoal.
The Cold One Riders escorted Lysandor to the edge of the square before quietly withdrawing.
Lysandor handed the wooden token to Tekuna.
Kroq-Gar’s slit pupils moved slowly across it.
First…
The blue Elven star.
Then…
The Human gauntlet.
Finally…
The single scale representing the Lizardmen.
He lifted his gaze.
“Three parties?”
His deep voice echoed through the plaza.
“Three.”
Lysandor nodded.
“Humans.”
“Elves.”
“Lizardmen.”
“Our commander proposes a three-way meeting.”
“Two days from now.”
“At sunrise.”
“Two miles south of the siege lines.”
“One mile north of the rainforest.”
Kroq-Gar nodded once.
The tip of his tail tapped lightly against the map, precisely marking the designated location.
Lysandor’s mission had ended.
The message had been delivered.
The meeting confirmed.
He lowered his head and offered the formal salute of an Elven reconnaissance officer reporting to a superior.
Then he quietly left the plaza.
Clermont.
Human command.
Orik received the Elves’ second letter shortly before sunset.
It contained only three lines.
Two days from now.
Sunrise.
Meeting point two miles south of the siege lines.
Three-party conference.
Orik read the letter again.
And again.
Three parties.
He looked toward his adjutant.
“What exactly does three parties mean?”
The young officer simply shook his head.
The Elves would never divide their own army into separate diplomatic delegations.
No professional army would.
The Humans certainly had no second representative.
Which left only one question.
Who was the third participant?
“Could reinforcements have arrived?”
Hope slipped into the young officer’s voice.
“Maybe the Kingdom finally sent troops from the north?”
As he spoke, he pulled a map case from his belt and traced possible reinforcement routes along the Greyspine Mountains.
Orik slowly shook his head.
He understood the Kingdom’s situation better than anyone.
The northern front was collapsing beneath relentless Chaos assaults.
The King had already committed every reserve.
No Human army was coming.
“If reinforcements are arriving…”
“They aren’t Human.”
He walked back to the battlements.
The rainforest had turned dark green beneath the evening sky.
“Prepare the horses.”
“Choose twenty cavalrymen who are still fit enough to ride.”
“Give them our best equipment.”
“The rest remain on the walls.”
“Keep every bow strung.”
“Keep every torch burning.”
“No matter what the Elves promise…”
“Our defences stay ready.”
He tucked the second letter inside his coat beside the first.
Then looked once more toward the rainforest.
His voice was almost carried away by the wind.
“I don’t care who the third party is.”
“As long as someone can stop this war.”
Golden Tower.
Kroq-Gar sat inside the pyramid’s underground chamber.
Spread before him lay the northern rainforest map removed from the central plaza.
Tekuna crouched beside him.
With charcoal, he marked three symbols.
The blue Elven star outside Clermont.
The Human gauntlet upon the city walls.
The Lizardmen scale one mile north of the rainforest.
The three symbols formed an almost perfect triangle.
Tekuna rested the charcoal beside the stone map and measured the distances with one claw.
“From Golden Tower to the meeting place…”
“A light marching force could arrive in less than two hours.”
“If you bring two companies of Cold One Riders…”
“And the Crusher…”
“You’ll emerge from the rainforest onto open ground.”
“Both sides will see your strength immediately.”
“This will be your first meeting with two foreign powers at the same time.”
Tekuna spoke calmly.
Yet the charcoal in his claws continued tapping softly against the stone.
“They’ll test you.”
“The Humans will try to determine whether you’re allied with the Elves.”
“The Elves will wonder whether you’ve come as Human reinforcements.”
“The information they possess is uneven.”
“The Elves already know you command cities and armies.”
“The Humans don’t even know you’re coming.”
Kroq-Gar nodded.
He had already considered every likely opening.
The Human commander would not offer a handshake after seeing a towering, three-and-a-half-metre Lizardman.
His first instinct would be to draw his sword.
Elyndra would not.
She had already met him once.
She would watch the Human reaction first…
Then adjust her own.
He folded the map.
Placed it inside the storage compartment built into the stone platform.
Then stood.
Leaving the underground chamber, he emerged into the cool night air outside the pyramid.
Above him…
Countless stars filled the sky.
Across the plaza, purification runes glowed faintly between the stone paving.
Blue light below.
Starlight above.
Mirroring one another in the darkness.
“Kroq-Gar.”
Tekuna immediately straightened.
“Yes, my lord.”
Kroq-Gar looked out across Golden Tower.
“Guard the city.”