The imperial hunting grounds were, Eric had to admit, impressive.
Rolling green fields gave way to dense forest, and beyond that, the terrain rose into wooded hills where the real game supposedly lived. Tents had been raised in neat rows along a riverbank—great silk pavilions in imperial gold, smaller ones in the colors of various noble houses, and a sprawling cluster of servants' tents off to the side where cooks were already at work over open fires.
Eric stepped down from the carriage, stretched his aching back, and took it all in.
Then he looked at the crowd.
Nobles everywhere. Officials, generals, ministers, and their families, all turned out for the annual competition. The men wore riding gear—sleek tunics and tall boots, bows slung across their backs, quivers at their hips. The women were dressed in softer, lighter robes, their hair pinned up, their hands folded, gathered near the stands that had been built to overlook the hunt.
Eric looked at the men.
