The morning mist still clung to the valley as the Dawn Knights readied their horses. Their armor shone faintly in the pale light, banners snapping against the breeze. Cael sat astride a chestnut stallion named Ashwind, a beast with a restless spirit that matched his own. He had never truly ridden before, and his grip on the reins betrayed his nerves, but he forced himself to appear steady. A prince could not look uncertain before his knights.
Lady Elira rode beside him, her silver circlet gleaming in the sun. Garrick lumbered onto his warhorse with surprising ease for a man of his size, while Lyra sat atop a dark mare, looking like she had been born in the saddle.
“Our scouts report movement along the river path,” Elira said. “Bandits, most likely. A small raiding party preying on mercha
