By dawn the following day, the banyan tree was nothing more than a silhouette receding in the mist, swallowed by the hills. Kasmeri rode in silence, his masked face turned toward the capital — Savadra — gleaming faintly in the morning light like a promise wrapped in poison.
They had approached from the west, where the merchant roads from Westalis merged with Savadra's main road leading to the western gate, where sentries and guards patrolled. The Vengefuls had safehouses tucked into the underbelly of every city in the country, and in Savadra, their web ran deeper than the king would ever suspect.
They travelled as merchants and had prepared merchant clothes in advance. Their caravan consisted of several carriages.
As the sun finally broke free from the horizon, its radiant light bathed the landscape, revealing Savadra in all its resplendent glory.
