'Meet me on the crucifixion field at the darkest hour…' Glax recalled the god's order. 'Certainly, he's not very good at picking places to meet…'
However, it wasn't the darkest hour yet.
They had arrived at Rusa, the gigantic fortress made of black basalt, and the region's permanent mist enhanced its utilitarian dark beauty. The walls must have been fifty meters high, winding tortuously through spaced watchtowers as far as Glax's eyes could see.
Most of the warriors there wore the symbols of the Alectrions, as the Valosian noticed as he passed the courtyards and lookout posts. He also noticed equal numbers of Krotons, Damastios and non-Krios.
They were duly ignored until Glax reached the locksmith with the letters from the Marbium tagmatarchis. There was no idle person in the Keep.
So the trio waited a while until the news that they were there reached Commander Seleukos.
