Prologue
The storm broke over London in the early hours of the morning. Rain crashed down onto the cobbled street that ran past Traitor’s Gate, the passage to death in the Tower above. Lightning flashed, forking across the city, illuminating the skyscrapers that reached heavenward. A confident city, secure in its power, with no heed of the threat below.
Beneath the gate, the murky river Thames began to boil. A fetid stench bubbled from the depths as four men swam up from below. As they reached for the shore, another flash of lightning caught their faces in profile. Hard ridges of bone, thick jaws set in determination and the half-moon tattoo of the Warlord that painted their faces in shadow.
As the Feral Borderlanders climbed from the water, pulling their muscled bodies easily up the si
