The scout arrived at midnight, her body broken, her voice barely a whisper.
Michael was in his study, unable to sleep as usual, when the knock came at his door. He opened it to find a young woman collapsed on his doorstep, her clothes torn, her face covered in blood. She clutched a sealed scroll in her hand, the wax bearing a symbol he'd never seen before—an iron fist crushing a broken crown.
"Michael Voss," she gasped. "I bring word from the northern territories. The Iron Legion has risen. They have conquered every city between the mountains and the sea. They are marching toward Ashenford. They will be here in two weeks."
Michael helped her inside, calling for the healers. He read the scroll, his blood running cold.
Michael Voss,
The Iron Legion has united the northern warlords. They
