He rode like the wind for many, many days, travelling through rough lands towards east; through high mountains covered in pine forest he rode, over the countless nameless creeks and rivers, by deep, dark lakes whose waters gave no reflection of the stary night sky...

He was ridinig alone - after many battles in northern Italy, (where he earned glory and prestige as one of the Dukes of Duklja that fought most valiantly in the recent wars) scarred and tired, he could not rest; for the moment he was waiting on for so long had finally drew so close that he could almost taste it. His warband, his fellow kinsmen and servants, his pages and brothers in arms he left in Lombardy under the command of a loyal captain - they will look for a ship to get them over the Mediterranean sea, while he rides alone towards the capital of Byzantium.

Twenty first day of his epic voyage was nearing its end, when he finally set foot on the cultivated regions that surrounded Constantinople, the City of the Emperors. Harsh mountain climate that bothered him for so long was left behing him; instead, warm coastal air mixed with the salty smell of the sea filled his nostrills, while a light southern breeze swept down the waving sloops covered in wheat.

Dusan pulled the ribbon and Black Wind slowed down to pace speed. The sun was setting in that very moment - it seemed like it was being swallowed by the gray, western seas... Then, he turned east, and saw something that forever remained in his mind afterwards - there where the orange rays of a dying sun glimmered on the windows of high towers, palaces and domes he saw hundreds of reflections, thousands; a sight worthy of a poem. Constantinople. It was not a case that it bore the name City of the Emperors. It was magnificent.



Right before the sun sat completely, Dusan saw one giant dome that dominated all others, with a great cross of pure gold attached on the top of it - the legendary Haigha Sophia, the mother of all orthodox churches, the pride and glory of the great City. It was the Temple where, Dusan hoped, the happiest moment of his life will take place. It was the place where his dearest Love and he will say the words, and participate in the traditions that will bound them for all etternity.

Somewhere, somewhere down there, between those thick circling walls that surrounded the City, she was preparing for dinner, after a hard first day of the Tourney that was being held in the honour of their marriage... Alas, no matter how hard he pressed his great black war horse, he couldn't get there on time, to enlist for the big event. He was sad because he couldn't participate, because he couldn't take the scarf of his beloved and charge into the fray, like some valourous knight from the tales of the bards and minstrels... Ah, it was most dissapointing indeed, most disapointing...

But what happened could not be undone. Dusan just hoped that Camy is alright (knowing well of her fighting desires, and joy that she had when she was in the heat of battle), and, deep in his heart, that she will win the Tourney.

"Come on, Black Wind...", he whispered to his horse's ear, "there must be a door down there that will stand between us and the night. The air smells of rain, storm is coming."...

..."A bed for me, and a place in the stable for my horse, that's all you can do for me, good man. " - tall, dark haired knight stated, while his deep blue eyes glimmered lively on the light of a burning torch. Thunders roamed somewhere above the roofs of Constantinople, and first drops of rain started to fall. The inkeeper (big, fat fellow with yellow teeth and greasy hair) gazed suspiciously in the direction of the man that spoke, obviously calculating how much money he could get out of this particular customer. Knight's equipment was a bit battered (his mail was coroded on a few spots, his helmet and greaves too), but his tabbard, black as night, and a necklace in a shape of a raven (of pure silver) seemed expensive; so he asked one silver denarii for the night. He was surprised and was still blinking in disbelief when the man smiled and threw him five coins.
"Book me up for five nights. And get me something to eat when you catch some time. And wine!"...

There was much for him to do tomorrow, and in the upcoming days. But he was not concerned. All that remained for him to do, he will do for the future days of happiness and joy, when Camy will finally become his, in front of God and the whole world. What bigger motivation could he wished for...?