The Golden Company's camp, on the drill ground outside the command tent.
Harry Strickland all but burst through the tent flap, followed by a dozen officers whose faces showed the same shock and haste.
The afternoon sunlight was somewhat dazzling, making him instinctively narrow his eyes. Then his gaze was caught by the small mounted party at the edge of the drill ground.
More than twenty black-clad knights silently guarded the two men at their center.
One was Jon Connington.
Harry knew that face well. Lord Griffin, the most important link between the Golden Company and His Highness.
And beside Lord Griffin, the young man sitting astride a powerful black horse...
Harry's heart skipped a beat.
A black cloak, its hood drawn low, concealed most of his face. All Harry could see was a sternly defined jaw and a few strands of silver-white hair escaping the edge of the hood, their brilliance undiminished even by the dust.
This was "Prince Aegon Targaryen"?
He seemed... somewhat different from the blue-haired boy Harry had met once in Pentos several years ago. But years had passed, and it was only natural for a boy's face to change as he grew.
Though the hood concealed most of his face, preventing Harry from getting a closer look.
And that silver hair... had he stopped dyeing it blue because he no longer needed to hide?
"Commander!"
Marlos spotted Harry and hurried forward, striking his chest with his right fist in salute. He spoke quickly. "We encountered Lord Griffin and... His Highness on the road."
He quickly reported what had happened.
Harry raised his brows and looked at Jon in surprise. "What a coincidence!"
Jon Connington urged his horse half a step forward and spoke evenly, his voice tinged with the hoarseness of a long journey. "Commander