The Golden Company marched across scorched earth for three days.
More than ten thousand men followed a dry riverbed north toward Myr.
Aegon wore a black cloak and rode a black horse, his silver hair stirring in the wind.
His gaze swept over the barren hills on either side, the blackened stumps, the half-collapsed earthen walls, and distant wisps of dark smoke that might have come from cooking fires or lingering embers.
Barren, brutal, fought over until nothing of value remained.
"At this pace, we should see Myr's walls by tomorrow evening." Jon Connington rode beside him, a worn map spread in his hands.
Aegon nodded slightly, his gaze resting on the farther horizon.
"Your Highness," Jon lowered his voice, "regarding the Governor of Myr, I suggest we first request passage and supplies..."
Hoofbeats cut him off.
A group of scouts emerged from behind the eastern hills. Their leader hurriedly reported to Bennett, the cavalry commander who rode out to meet them.
"Your Highness," Bennett turned his horse, his expression hard, "our scouts found a small group being pursued five miles southeast of here. A dozen or so, dressed like Lyseni. Their pursuers are Myrish light cavalry, about thirty men."
Lyseni? In a place like this?
Jon frowned at Aegon.
"Did they get a clear look at who they were?" Aegon asked calmly.
"The scouts reported that their leader was a silver-haired woman with guards. But they were too far away to make out the details." Bennett paused. "The Myrish are close on their heels."
A woman. Silver hair.
Something stirred deep in Aegon's violet eyes.
"Bennett."
"Here!"
"Take your men and deal with it. Bring them back." Aegon paused. "Alive."
"Understood!"
Bennett struck his chest with his right fist, pulled his reins, and singled out two companies. Some two