. . .
THE LORD COMMANDER, LATCHLON PIERRAN and his Legion arrived the golden gates of the Capital just as the sun was winding down the sky. His company of 1 100 Syverian soldiers rode through the streets at twilight, and it was only the lights from glowing sconces that granted them passage to the Fort, the base of all military officers of the South Empire.
Latchlon led the troops in the forefront, wading past a couple of traders who stood watching from the sides of their stalls as the troops rode back into the city. Flanked behind by his trusted valet and lover, Seth Petyr, Latchlon hurried the officers to the Fort while he turned at the crossroads, taking the far fresher path that led to the Castle.
