The rising star of the Confederation stood upon the prow of the Roaring Axe, one hand gripping the salt-slick rail as the wind lashed his face, carrying his black hair like banners across his cheeks. The sea stretched endless and gray before him, foam biting at the ship's flanks, the gulls circling like restless souls.
He had stood here once before, though then it had been with only four ships, a petty raid upon some city and its villages, an adventure that seemed small now, yet had birthed the seed of everything that followed.
From that raid, he had taken not only plunder and slaves, but something far more precious: the woman who now guided his fleet. Who could have foreseen that the slave he once dragged into his bed would one day lead him to the very heart of her homeland?
