A beautiful southern princess

The guard caught sight of the new arrivals, promptly snapped out of his drowsy gaze and straightened himself up. The approaching party proved to be a very imposing sight.

A full retinue of riders in full armor, escorting a coach drawn by four horses were making their way towards the gate. The horsemen rode in a strict formation around the carriage, and the coach was richly ornamented, apparently carrying somebody important.

As he nervously waited for the strangers to make themselves known he let his eyes wander over them and measured them for a potential battle. The riders sat tall in their saddles, and their outfits glistened with golden details. The guard had never seen the like of such smith-work.

The exotic newcomers' scale armor looked light and flexible, but still very powerful. Lances and sheathed scimitars looked equally imposing, and he caught a glimpse of the stern expressionless dark faces under their exotic looking pointy helmets.

He tightened the grip around his spear. The coat of arms on their shields was unknown to him, and he wondered whether to sound the alarm or not, as he had no idea if there was friend or foe that approach.

The entourage suddenly stopped short. Apart from one especially eminent-looking rider who broke off from the tight formation and proceeded in walking-pace. He finally halted right in front of the guard. The war horse trampled nervously, and white smoke plumed out of its muzzle.

”His Highness King Mandour of Lydia and Princess Nila!” he shouted with a thick foreign accent, looking straight over the guard's head. ”His Royal Highness is expected at the Zatakian court,” he continued and handed over a roll of parchment.

The nervous guard flinched at first but accepted the document from the foreign soldier's gauntlet. It was indeed a formal invitation to an audience. And it carried the official seal of High Jarl Alrik, the ruler of Zatakia!

The guard was flabbergasted for a while. All this sudden talk of royalty made his head spin. But he soon came to his senses. He made a clumsy salute, rushed into to the gateway and shouted up a stairwell leading up to the main gate tower, ”Get down here you dogs! Form an escort and take the Lydian king to the citadel!”

Men rushed down the stairs and soon the foreigners were given entrance to the city. The gateway echoed with iron-shod hooves as they rode through. And as the royal coach passed, the guard couldn't help taking a peek through the side window.

He was suddenly stunned as he met the dark eyes of a wondrously beautiful woman inside the coach.