Chapter 266: Terms
Dawn broke over the southern gates of Bastion Nine in a slow wash of pale, freezing light.
The heavy iron portcullis remained firmly shut. It cast long, jagged shadows across the damp cobblestones. Lord Commander Vell stood in the center of the road, looking vastly out of place in the grim morning mist.
He had been roused from his bed mere minutes prior. He was still dressed in a luxurious robe of pristine white silk. He had come down to the gates himself, fully certain that there had been a simple misunderstanding.
A dozen elite Vanguard knights flanked him. Their halberds rested at attention, but Vell paid them no mind. His eyes were locked on the velvet transport sitting abandoned in front of the gates.
The engine was cold. The driver was gone. Nailed directly to the velvet door with a jagged black dagger was a single piece of heavy parchment.
Vell stepped forward. He reached out with a trembling hand and pulled the parchment from the wood.
