Veyran Kara-Korvaş’s immense tent was illuminated by the warm, flickering light of beeswax torches. Silk carpets from Khorasan covered the floor, while the heavy scents of venison, saffron rice, and sweet pomegranate hung thickly in the air.
Veyran Kara-Korvaş, ruler of the Eastern Steppes, sat upon a raised dais; his ringed, pudgy fingers caressed a carved ivory goblet. He offered his guests a broad, welcoming smile, but his small, dark eyes carried the cold, calculating gaze of a desert vulture.
"To the brave Azhred of the Drazhan clan!" Kara-Korvaş shouted, raising his goblet high. "And to his... extraordinary strategist!"
Azhred sat in the place of honor, his posture straight, his silver-embroidered cloak shimmering in the torchlight. He raised his bronze cup with polite acceptance. "Thank you for your hospitality, Veyran Kara-Korvaş. Elyaran will not forget those who stand beside us when the sky grows dark."
Beside Azhred, Tair was leaning against a low cushion. He wore no elegant robes; only his faded, salt-stained wool tunic. His lifeless right arm lay hidden beneath his cloak in his lap; his eye patch cast a rough shadow across his sunken cheekbone. He did not touch the roasted meat. He did not reach for the wine.
Tair’s one unblinking black eye was fixed on the servant standing three steps behind Kara-Korvaş’s throne.
System Interface: ASTRA
MICRO-EXPRESSION ANALYSIS: Active
PUPIL DILATION: 14%
RESPIRATION: Abnormally high