The carriage's wheels rattled steadily along the cobblestone road, the sound echoing between stone buildings as it descended towards the harbour. As they approached their destination, the horses slowed to navigate the growing crowd.
Armel pushed aside the curtain and leaned towards the window.
Summer had breathed full life into Port Braska. Dockworkers shouted over one another as they hauled crates of fish and barrels of goods, merchants called out prices beneath striped awnings.
The gulls wheeled overhead with sharp cries, and the briny scent of salt, tar, and sun-warmed wood filled the surroundings.
Ships bobbed against their moorings, sails half-raised and snapping lazily in the sea breeze while ropes creaked, and masts groaned like restless giants.
Then he saw it.
Beyond the clutter of fishing vessels and trading ships stood a magnificent warship bearing the renowned crest of the Grand Duke of Gerhard.
