Dragon Horse

Ah Lin remembered the last time the old storyteller had been in Maracanda. Not long after he had moved on to wherever it was he went on his travels, the young mistress of the house, adored mother of Rokshan, had caught a mysterious fever and died. Ah Lin had always thought it was a strange coincidence, and maybe that's all it was, but she hadn't been able to get it out of her mind then - and now it all came flooding back.

As she watched Kan go with a worried little smile on her face she absently made the sign of the dragon - an s-shape representing the coils of the mythical creature, drawn with the nail of her thumb on her forehead, mouth and breast to ward off any evil spirits. Then she shut the door as quietly as she could and disappeared inside.

The Maracanda School for Special Envoys attracted scholars, girls and boys, from all over the Empire to begin their training as envoys for top diplomatic posts throughout all Known Lands of the Empire. At fourteen, Rokshan had another two years of study there ahead of him.

The School was not far from the Grand Bazaar in the centre of Maracanda. The buzz and hubbub from the great market was a constant hum in the background that Rokshan found strangely comforting.

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