Anthos opened his eyes and saw Kalen and Begryn talking. Galfrido was poking at the campfire, his face clearly still heavy with sleep. Dawn had broken, but the sun had yet to rise above the mountains. Due to the firelight and the tricks of the clouds at that hour of the morning, Anthos thought he saw Ertai’s shadow watching him from the darkness, but he quickly shook his head and realized it was nothing more than the natural shapes of the hour.

  “Good morning,” he said, still dazed from waking.

  “Good morning,” they all replied almost in unison.

  Kalen came over and handed him a bowl. “A little tea?”

  He accepted and took a sip of the hot brew, which almost immediately warmed his throat.

  “Could we go over the path on your map?” Begryn asked.

  “Of course.” He spread out the piece of leather where the map was drawn. “We left Rivero,”—he began to mark with charcoal—“headed east, found a bridge we could cross, and made it here”—he circled the approximate point of the Diamond River crossing. “Then we veered a little west and entered the Road of Arimondia, continuing until here, where we are now.” He drew a cross over Fort Askarg. “What remains is to head northwest, to the Thousand Roses Bridge, and once we cross it, the road will be paved, well-traveled, and guarded. And that’s it, across the Fields of the Unicorn. From here on, it’s the easy part.”

  “If the city has already learned of Faradax’s invasion, they’re likely closing the bridge—or at least posting a small garrison of scouts,” Galfrido remarked.

  “Most likely,” Kalen agreed.

  They set out again and marched for several more hours, moving much faster now that the road grew easier, though gradually steeper as they neared the Ramei Mountains once more. In the distance, they could see a tower emerging ghostlike through the afternoon mist.

  “That’s the Watchtower,” Anthos told them, “just across the Thousand Roses Bridge.”

  They still couldn’t make out the crossing clearly, but the sight of the tower was enough for him to recognize the place.

  “Why that name?” Begryn asked. “You humans aren’t exactly talented at naming things, are you?”

  Kalen looked at her and smiled. “There was a great battle here. Hundreds of men fell from the bridge to their eternal rest. They say that from above, you could see their bodies surrounded by blood… a scarlet halo that contrasted with the snow covering the rocks and riverbanks. From that view, they looked like roses. That’s how it got its name. Macabre, isn’t it?”

  “Everything in this world is,” Galfrido said. “Here, history was written in blood. In the case of this bridge, blood in the shape of roses.”

  They advanced for quite a stretch until they finally reached the snow-covered bridge. It was a vast expanse of stone, at least a hundred meters long, supported by pillars that seemed to emerge from the rock itself. The fall was immense, and, due to the mist and distance, the river at the bottom was barely visible, flowing from the Ramei range and emptying into the Iceberg lake.

  The bridge was wide enough for four carts to pass side by side and had wooden and stone railings along its edges. Its span was not uniform; it subtly zigzagged at points and had slight rises and dips as well. It was as if the bridge had sprung from the mountain itself rather than being a planned construction.

  They saw that, on the other side, the tower appeared uninhabited. Perhaps it was because dusk had not fully set in, and the firelit chambers inside were not yet visible. As they moved forward, they noticed that the watchtower was surrounded by a structure that served as a fortress. It was made of the same mountain stone, and right at the mouth of the road marked by the bridge stood a massive iron-and-wood gate bristling with spikes, tightly shut.

  As they crossed the stone bridge, they realized that the tower was, in fact, inhabited—the glow of torches within betrayed it.

  “Halt!” a shrill voice cried from one of the tower windows above. “Who crosses the Thousand Roses Bridge!?”

  “Good afternoon!” Kalen shouted to make himself heard over the strong wind. “We come from Doknar, requesting passage to the Frozen City!”

  “The bridge is closed by order of the general, Count Dromak Valderan!” the soldier replied. They could see he wore a metal helmet with chainmail draping down the back of his neck, steel pauldrons over a leather cuirass.

  “I am a knight of the Order of Reidos! I demand to speak with whoever is in charge!”

  Minutes passed, and night fell. The void beneath the bridge had turned into a black, menacing abyss. Anthos decided to build a fire right there, for they were not about to freeze to death waiting for some pompous noble and his entourage of fools.

  At last, the gates opened, and a bald man with a few shaven hairs stepped out, his face severe and covered in scars. He wore a full suit of ornate plate armor, with a red cloak flowing from his back, and at its center the crest of Trabarioth—the silver unicorn. He was flanked by two soldiers on each side, clad in chainmail and helmets with nasal guards, wearing red tunics bearing the same heraldry.

  "Greetings," he said in a raspy yet harmonious voice. "I am Lord Devan de-Oppengraf. Forgive the delay, but we had to make sure there was nothing unusual about you. I don’t know if you’re aware, but we stand on the eve of an attack."

  News of the assault on Trabarioth had reached them before the adventurers.

  "Yes, my lord," Kalen replied formally. "That is why we must reach the Frozen City as soon as possible."

  "Please, come in and let us talk. I imagine you must be hungry and tired," he said, spreading his arms and letting his gaze sweep over them, lingering especially on the baby. "Julius, please escort our guests to their quarters."

  "We are grateful for your kindness, my lord." The paladin gave a slight bow.

  They walked behind the soldier called Julius and entered the interior of the fortress. The structure was built of stone and quite dark, with dampness seeping even through the rocks. The lighting came from torches fixed to iron brackets along the walls. There was little decoration, save for a pair of Trabarioth tapestries hanging on the stone.

  They soon reached a staircase that led to another corridor lined with rooms. Julius opened one of the doors and invited them inside.

  "Please, sirs, freshen up, make yourselves comfortable, and I will come fetch you for dinner."

  "Ha!" exclaimed Galfrido. "Did you hear that? They’re going to serve us dinner… and here I thought this trip could only get worse."

  The room was more than spacious, with a few wooden chairs cushioned for comfort. The only window was a tall, rectangular opening that offered a view of the mountains and, of course, the starry night sky. At the center stood a large pedestal with a waterskin resting atop it.

  Begryn was the first to begin washing, followed by Galfrido. Anthos sat down in one of the chairs, looking around with unease.

  "Is something wrong?" asked Kalen 'Fal.

  "Do you trust these people?" The guide’s tone was sharp.

  "Truthfully, not entirely. But he is a noble of Trabarioth—why shouldn’t I? They are allies of Doknar and offered us shelter. My friend, relax a little. That everything has been miserable in recent weeks doesn’t mean it must continue to be so. Clean your wounds, get rid of the mud, and enjoy the dinner they’ll serve us. We aren’t always greeted with a meal…"

  "Exactly. Were they expecting us?" Anthos narrowed his eyes.

  The paladin nodded and said no more. He knew that many times he erred on the side of trust, but now he felt he ought to remain discreet. He was used to moving among the threads of nobility—Anthos was not. His concern was understandable.

  The guide stood up, left the room, and began walking to the other side of the hallway. As he moved along, he noticed that the rooms were empty. He reached a fork and saw two guards pass by. They wore only light leather armor, an open sallet-style helmet, and leather boots. Each carried a spear and a dagger at their waist. When he walked past them, they looked him up and down but shrugged, gave him a nod, and let him continue. Suddenly, one of them turned back and approached him.

  “Good evening, sir… are you lost or something?” he said, with a thick northern accent.

  “The truth is, I’m looking for the room… I stepped out so as not to get in the way while my companions washed, and I’m afraid I lost my way.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “I’ll tell you, but it’s not wise to wander alone. Take the left hallway, then turn right at the fork, and keep going until you reach the main quarters.”

  “Thank you very much, sir.”

  “Think nothing of it… Though I strongly advise you not to wander alone around the tower. We’re not used to having guests, and from what I understand, dinner will be soon.”

  “Alright, then, I’ll retrace my steps.”

  ‘Dinner will be soon,’ Anthos thought. Either the people here were being too kind, or they had been expecting them. Something didn’t quite add up.

  He went back and found Kalen, Begryn, and Galfrido looking in better shape than when they had arrived—at least a bit cleaner.

  “Where did you go?” asked the knight.

  “Nowhere… just to get a feel for the place, that’s all.”

  “Anthos, I understand your concern, and we all share it,” said Kalen. “Truly. But we must not hurt feelings or appear hostile. It’s possible Volrath sent a pigeon informing them of our arrival. I ask, please, that we be prudent and discreet.”

  “Forgive my distrust, fellow traveler, but not long ago we suffered an unforgivable betrayal out of too much trust. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Kalen shook his head just as Julius arrived to escort them to dinner. They walked for several minutes through the dark hallways. They reached a large hall with a long wooden table covered by a red cloth. To their left was a wood stove with a fire burning, while to their right was a closed door. Opposite the entrance was another door, and above it hung a portrait of Queen Audarin of Trabarioth, clad in her golden armor.

  On the table rested several dishes of food, mostly chicken and pork, along with some potatoes and cheese, plus a bit of bread. The smell of basil, garlic, and pepper filled their nostrils and awakened their taste buds.

  “Come, take a seat,” said Lord Devan, seated at the head of the table, now without armor and wearing a red and gold tunic.

  "Thank you very much, my lord," Kalen replied, keeping up the formalities.

  "So, tell me," Lord Devan said, taking a sip of his wine, "setting aside the coming invasion… why do you want to reach Trabarioth? One of my guards told me you came from Doknar… How did you manage to cross in winter? I can’t imagine what you must have gone through."

  "It wasn’t easy, my lord. But what we can say is that we must bring this child with us to Trabarioth," Kalen answered.

  Lord Devan looked at them for a moment, then turned his gaze to the child.

  "What strikes me and my companions —and please don’t take this as an offense, it’s only a feeling— is that it seems you were expecting us. The room, the washbasin, the dinner…"

  The host smiled and nodded emphatically. "The insight of knights is well known…"

  He wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin after eating a chicken leg. "You’re right, Sir Kalen. We received a letter from the mage Volrath informing us of the arrival of a paladin with a baby… of rather transcendental importance, so to speak." He pointed his chicken leg at Drako.

  "Are you aware of the prophecy?" Begryn asked, eyes wide, looking from one companion to the next, equally astonished.

  "Of course I know of the prophecy, madam elf. That we don’t put stock in it is another matter," Lord Devan shrugged. "But if the royal mage deems it important that we protect you and let you pass, I have no objection. From what I understand, Lord Volrath received a letter from you saying you were coming to meet him. Am I right?"

  "That is so, Lord Devan," Kalen added. "I sent the letter with my own hand." They saw the lord nod. "It isn’t unreasonable that he let you know of our passage."

  "What I find odd is that the mage mentioned the prophecy," Galfrido interjected, waving a piece of chicken, food at the corner of his mouth. "May we see Volrath’s letter?"

  "Naturally." The lord continued, "It does not mention the child’s prophecy, but that story is known in these parts…" He looked again at the baby, then at the fire. Anthos raised his eyes sharply but said nothing.

  "Bah — sorcery, curses, demons… all a true fable. My concern is that bastard Faradax. I have fewer than thirty men to defend this pass. Do you know what I plan to do, Sir Kalen?"

  The knight shook his head.

  "I plan to set everything on fire and destroy every stone of this place with those wretches inside. It isn’t the order I have, but it’s the only thing I can think to do about it."

  "We could call for reinforcements and mount a solid defense right here. It’s a good position and would force the enemy to thin his ranks to get through."

  "I already tried. Reinforcements won’t come." He looked down, gloomy, but then brightened. "Well, I must admit your group is most unusual…" He scanned those present. "I’ve never seen an elf of your kind, if you’ll pardon me."

  "Of course I do…" Begryn smiled mockingly. "Have you seen many elves in your life?"

  Lord Devan let out a hearty laugh. "No, of course not. But I’ve seen enough to know that you don’t look much like them… at least not the ones from Faema."

  "They are forest elves, just like most elves in the world. In Nuvodas, we also have the elves of Querylmon and, in the surrounding seas, the sea elves. I am a hybrid, Lord Devan. And I am very proud of it."

  "I can see that you are!" He poured himself some wine into his glass. "Well then, let us drink to the Thousand Roses Bridge, and to you, whose adventures I hope to hear about someday." He raised his glass of wine. "Cheers!"

  Those present exchanged glances. They were about to drink when Anthos’ voice suddenly stopped them.

  "Wait a moment!" he said abruptly, interrupting everyone’s drink.

  "What is it?" asked Kalen.

  "There is something I did not quite understand, Lord Devan de-Oppengraf. You told us that in his letter, the mage Volrath did not mention the prophecy at any point." The host nodded, raising a brow. "In the letter, he only mentions the paladin and a child of transcendental importance, correct?"

  "That’s right…"

  "Then allow me to clear my mind." He set his cup aside and crossed his arms. "If in the letter Volrath never once mentioned the prophecy, why did you relate the importance of this child to that elven prophecy?" They saw him open his eyes wide.

  "Well, when I read that the child was important, I immediately connected it to that old tale… magicians and their beliefs!" He smiled nervously.

  "There are thousands of reasons why a child can be considered important or… transcendental. The most common is an unwanted lineage or the bastard of some king. However, you chose the elven prophecy, which I repeat, was not mentioned anywhere as something to link to our presence and to the boy."

  "It’s just that old story goes around everywhere in these lands… I’m sick of hearing it… It sticks in your head all the time." His voice began to tremble.

  "That’s another thing, Lord Devan de-Oppengraf," Anthos continued, this time with a sly smile on his face. Before speaking again, he blew a puff of air to push the fringe from his forehead. "I am from these lands, as you must have noticed from my accent. In fact, my birthplace is not far from here. I left as a child, yes, but I also returned as an adult. And I had never heard anything even remotely like that legend. And now, suddenly, it has become a popular story. Do you understand my point, Lord Devan?"

  "No, I do not understand, and you are making me uncomfortable… in my own house."

  "Forgive me if I offended you, milord. It is just that I am a little tired from the journey."

  The lord looked down and shook his head.

  "Lord Devan?" asked Kalen ‘Fal, realizing the deceit.

  "Guards!" the man suddenly shouted and moved away from the table. Immediately, twenty guards armed with spears entered through the three doors and pointed their weapons at them. "I didn't want to have to come to this. Give me the baby... It's better if we finish him off once and for all."

  "Well, dinner just got interesting," Galfrido said, taking up his greatsword. "If you had planned to arrest us, you wouldn't have let us bring weapons, idiot."

  "It wasn't in his plans to arrest us," Anthos said, still wearing a roguish smile. "It was in his plans to poison us."

  "Last chance, Sir Kalen. Give me the child! Every second he breathes is a danger to humanity."

  "Come and take him," Kalen replied, stepping in front of the elf and Drako.

  "Lower your weapons, you rotten bastards!" Captain Julius shouted, pointing his spear at them. The soldiers did the same. Even the air seemed to have left the room due to the tension.

  "I haven't had very good days lately, and you've just ruined the only decent meal I've had in weeks... You should be pleased, sons of bitches," Galfrido growled, raising his greatsword and brandishing it through the air. Those present took a step back.

  "Captain Julius, if you attack us, you and your men will be accused of high treason. This man tried to poison us, and I would like to believe you are not part of this conspiracy," Kalen said, holding Eldora with both hands and frowning at the twenty armed soldiers. Begryn set Drako down at her feet. Suddenly, without warning, she loosed an arrow with lightning speed. It struck Lord Devan's hand, who was standing against the back wall. The lord began to scream, and the soldiers prepared to attack, when the elf spoke.

  "If you move a single inch, I will kill your lord," she exclaimed, nocking another arrow almost as quickly as the first. "It seems, Lord Devan, that you also have never met the Sharpshooters, have you? But don't worry. That will be remedied."

  "Begryn, we want him alive," the knight whispered. "I want to know who conspired against us."

  Anthos started moving forward, approaching Lord Devan, to the powerless stares of the soldiers. They didn't know what to do. If they acted, that elf would drive an arrow between their commander's eyes. On the other hand, they weren't paid enough to face that group of veteran warriors, and even less so on the eve of a war.

  The guide reached the man, clutching his wound and, without saying a word, punched him in the face.

  "Aaaah!"

  "Tell them to stand down, Lord Devan," Anthos said, his voice calm and almost a whisper in the lord's ear. "Tell them to leave or I'll slit your throat right here."

  "Fuck you!" the lord shouted angrily, blood in his nose. In that instant, with a quick cut of his sword, Anthos severed his ear.

  "Aaah!"

  The guards reacted to this action and launched their attack. With a swift movement, Anthos grabbed Lord Devan by the neck and pulled him between himself and the attackers. Galfrido swung his greatsword and, with the flat of the blade, knocked out the nearest guard. Begryn loosed two arrows at the feet of other guards, while Kalen held his sword ready and stood protectively in front of Drako.

  "Tell them to stop this shit right now!" Anthos shouted.

  "Stand down!" Lord Devan cried. Those present froze for a few seconds, staring at the adventurers.

  "Tell them to put away their weapons and back away from my friends."

  "You heard him! Do it!"

  "But Lord Devan..." Julius began.

  "Do it!"

  The guards started to fall back. Fortunately, none of them had been killed, though some were badly beaten.

  "Take those poor men to the infirmary!" Kalen scolded the onlookers, sheathing Eldora. "Did you really think there was even a chance you could defeat us?"

  "Galfrido, please cut the tablecloth and give me some strips," Anthos said suddenly. "We’re going to have a serious talk with Lord Devan de-Oppengraf."