As Blake moved through the corridors of the conquered palace, the roar of distant celebration faded behind him like a tide pulling back from shore when he was already walking on the beach, getting sand within his boots.
Outside a window, he glimpsed the sky. First time it was not filled with smoke...
It felt like centuries since he had stood offshore and watched this place burn. Since he'd ordered the sails drawn taut, sent men screaming onto sand, set torches to every hall these people called holy and took all the treasure that was inside.
Good times....those were good times.
He had no qualm about any of that, not even the latter, the Red God had ordered this city brought down and he had done just that.
They had come here for plunder and that they had got . Yet from the ashes he had walked away with more than any chest of coin.
