The stranger arrived at dawn.
William saw him from the roof of his house—a figure walking slowly up the eastern road, his cloak dusty, his steps measured. He carried no weapon that William could see, but there was something about the way he moved that suggested he was not a man to be underestimated.
William climbed down from the roof and walked to the gate.
The stranger stopped a few feet away. He was older than William had expected—maybe fifty, with gray-streaked hair and a face that had seen too much. His eyes were the color of the winter sky, pale and clear.
"You're William Draven."
"I'm William."
"I am Aldric." The stranger extended his hand. "I've traveled a long way to meet you."
William took his hand. "Why?"
"Because I have a message for you. From the old empire. From the pe
