Black, ominously large horses galloped towards the Duke's castle, the loud clopping of their hooves resonated through the stillness of the frozen courtyard, cutting it like a blade.
Following the four great obsidian stallions, the tall gates of the castle welcomed a big and wide wooden carriage, painted all black, with no windows on its walls.
The men on the horses were just as mysterious and dark – dressed in all black, with their heads and faces covered, they all seemed to move in unison, and as they rode through the snow, with every sudden gust of the cold northern wind, their long black capes fluttered like the spurts of raging flame.
The Black Flame.
Stopping his horse in front of the back entrance to Tillian's castle, a tall, broad-shouldered man raised his hand in the air and gestured for the rest of his party to turn their horses and move in the direction of the knights' quarters.
