Stewardess Helkha had traveled from Sanc Valatir, first by steed and now by boat, to the north. To Boria.

Knowing that she would not have another chance to speak with Ai, she saw no need to prolong her sojourn in the south and found speedy passage back to the north on the river cog [i]Sargassum[/i] in Ardaza. For an extra 250 silver thorns, she persuaded the merchant boat's captain to bypass Thulthar and sail up the River Khad toward Eskar. As the [i]Sargassum[/i] sailed up the great rivers of the north, Helkha watched from the window of her rude cabin as the landscape beyond the riverbanks gradually transitioned from the great manorial estates of the coast to wilder country whose forests and hills were scarcely touched by man. When it had been nearly a day of sailing since the last settlement passed by - a tiny collection of wattle and daub huts built around a few jetties into the river - Helkha knew they were getting close.

There was little for the Stewardess to entertain herself with as the boat crawled up the River Khad. She brought numerous books with her before leaving for Sanc Valatir, but she had already read them all. Helkha had given up checking her crystal scrying orb to reach Vadigar, and was now wishing she had asked if Ai possessed a similar scrying orb with which she could attune hers. She spent a time reviewing that conversation with Ai on the balcony of the Sanctum. She regretted being so brash and wished that she could speak with Ai now to explain her sentiments more clearly. But now, with the great impending war in the south, Ai would either spend much of his life subjugating the Lesmanian factions or die in the attempt. In any case, Helkha did not expect to cross paths with him ever again. With no one to confide with, Helkha resigned herself to looking through the window of her cabin and watching the open hill country of Ciskhadania roll past.

"Port ho!" Helkha heard a deckhand call from outside. Having passed Portus Furcata in the middle of the night, Helkha knew that there was only one port settlement of any size this far up the River Khad: Eskar. At long last, Helkha was nearly home again. She gathered up her belongings and left her cabin in preparation for disembarking.

From the [i]Sargassum's[/i] cramped deck, Helkha watched as her home city inched closer toward her. Strategically situated on a point of land in the middle of the confluence of the rivers Khad and Isna, Eskar was perhaps as large as a settlement could reasonably be this far from the imperial heartland or any major trade routes. A palisade fortified with rudimentary watchtowers demarcated the town's boundaries on land, while a half-dozen wharves jutting out into the River Khad provided ample harborage to the odd vessel that found its way this far north. A few small warehouses and craftsmen's shops lined the waterfront row, and overlooking the city's houses and shops was the modest keep of Rasthomig.

But as the [i]Sargassum's[/i] deckhands drew out oars and paddled up alongside one of the free wharves, Helkha noticed something unusual about the city. In the city's vacant lots and open spaces, a number of tents had been pitched. Men in silvery kettle hats with spears in their arms could be seen marching about Eskar's streets or milling about in loose clusters. Helkha's heart raced in her breast at the sight of so many soldiers. This had all the earmarks of an occupied city. What in the Mother's name had been allowed to transpire while she was away? Perhaps the baronets in the north of Boria had recognized an opportunity with the Stewardess' absence and had overtaken Eskar. But if that were the case, Helkha would expect to see the city brimming with mounted Narzads. The men that marched through the streets now seemed outfitted as imperial levies. The thousand questions swirling through the Stewardess' head would have to wait until she disembarked to be answered, and that could not come quickly enough. As soon as the [i]Sargassum's[/i] moorings were hitched, the gangplank laid out, and the Stewardess' horse brought up from the cog's hold; Helkha slapped five large orichalcum coins worth 100 thorns apiece into the captain's hand. Without so much as a farewell, Helkha mounted her unsaddled horse and galloped off the gangplank and onto the wharf.

As Helkha rode through Eskar's streets, it became clear that the soldiers that milled about the city were not here as part of a coup mounted by the baronets. The soldiers, upon recognizing the Stewardess, stopped what they were doing and bowed their kettle hats to her in deference.

"Hail, Stewardess!" A soldier exclaimed as Helkha cantered past.

"Welcome home, milady!" Another greeted.

The fact that these men were attempting to greet her, rather than seize her, gave proof that these were not the warriors in the employ of some upstart baronet; but rather her loyal levies. But why had they been mustered?

When Helkha rode up to the foot of Rasthomig Keep, she encountered Hemigan and Baronet Galakhad surveying a platoon of spearman levies formed in ranks in an open plaza near the keep's gates - the closest thing Eskar had to a parade ground. As soon as Hemigan and Galakhad noticed the mounted Stewardess, they dismissed the soldiers and immediately approached.

"Milady!" Hemigan exclaimed. "Am I ever glad to see you!"

"Hemigan, Knight-Commander Galakhad," Helkha addressed as she reigned in her panting horse, "what is the meaning of all this? Why is the city teeming with soldiers?"

"I fear there has been some... disquieting news of late," Hemigan reported; a dour expression replacing the excitement of the Stewardess' unexpected return. The Stewardess' wizened adviser waited for the last of the spearmen to march out of earshot before he continued.

"Word has reached my ear from Atar that is profoundly alarming. I have no reason to question the source of this knowledge; invaders have arrived in the Lands of the Red Witch. There they speak of an army that crossed the western edge of Atar within the last month, moving east."

"From where?" Helkha asked.

"All that was said to me is that they hail from the west," Hemigan confessed. "With an array of soldiers and beasts the likes of which their people have never seen. Weapons that they have no words to describe. It all sounds frightfully familiar to the stories you recounted of your brother in the far west. I fear these warriors may hail from the Sunset Ocean."

"Djaam." Helkha concluded, speaking through a lump in her throat. Already, it seemed as though Illyrica was poised to suffer yet another surprise attack from its peripheries. First from Lesmania, and now from the Djaam by way of Atar. It was said that the Night Mother was capable of overcoming any foe or difficulty; but resisting two attacks across two very distant battlefields struck Helkha as a feat that even the Night Mother might have some difficulty achieving. 

"[i]Djahm[/i]?" Galakhad pronounced with difficulty.

"The sorcerer kings in the far west that my brother fought against," Helkha explained, before turning back to Hemigan. "Do you think they have come to avenge themselves for whatever injuries Vadigar inflicted against them?"

"I am told that these warriors are paying no heed to the indigenous peoples of Atar. They do not appear to attack or move toward the haunts of the Red Witches, only moving eastward at a very rapid pace. The Red Witches seem to have no interest in softening their blow against us. If anything, I would expect the Atari to mobilize any attacks [i]after[/i] the arrival of this western host on our border."

"This must be the work of the Djaam," Helkha concluded. "In which case, we must look to the defenses of our western frontier."

"Agreed," Galakhad added. "It would seem your brother has rattled quite the hornet's nest. But, rest assured, milady, we will crush this expeditionary force of theirs. I have summoned as many levies as I was able from the south of Boria and the Baronets in the north will also heed the call to battle. Their Narzad cavalry will ours to command against this horde."

"That will be nowhere near enough to repel such a force," Helkha concluded. "If these are the same men my brother has fought against for the past ten years, they will be formidable foes to be sure. We must notify the whole of Illyrica."

"And I have sounded the call to the arms in your stead, milady." Hemigan reported. "I have sent riders as far as Thulthar to warn our fellow exarchs against this threat. But I fear there is no time to await any response. The time to fortify the empire's western flank is now. And to this end, Knight-Commander Galakhad has taken it upon himself to lead our forces to strengthen the existing garrisons of the empire's border forts along the western frontier."

"Indeed," Galakhad chimed in. "I will lead our forces to the fort at Abkher."

"And I will join you," declared Helkha.

"Milady, while your offer is generous, there is no need for-"

"No, Galakhad," Helkha stated firmly. "[i]We[/i] will lead our forces to Abkher first thing tomorrow morning. For while it is possible that these monsters put my beloved brother to death, a daughter of Vescar yet draws breath. May the Mother damn me if I sit on a throne while the Djaam, the enemies of my Vadigar, take their war to the Illyrican homeland. So long as I live, I will help repel the Djaam."