Neptune was walking on his hind legs again.

Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, but traversing the Grand Marsh—the vast expanse of boggy terrain separating London from the northern cities—required a different strategy. The marshlands were treacherous, and if the 22-ton Spinosaurus didn’t walk on all fours, he risked sinking into the mud, slowing them both down.

Aaric groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Come on, boy,” he said, his voice tinged with exasperation. “I know you hate walking on your forelegs, but we need to get to the capital before sundown. We’re still two hours out.”

Neptune let out a low, guttural groan. It was a noise Aaric had come to recognize as frustration. Nevertheless, the massive dinosaur complied, lowering his body until his forelimbs pressed into the soft, wet ground.

“There we go,” Aaric said. “Glad to see you’re being reasonable. Don’t worry, this is the last time we’ll have to slog through these stupid marshlands for a while. Let’s keep moving—the sun’s already starting to dip, and I, for one, do not want to be out here after dark.”

Neptune growled in agreement, a deep, resonant sound that sent ripples across the surface of a nearby pool. With renewed determination, the Spinosaurus picked up the pace, his broad, paddle-like tail swishing lazily behind him.

Aaric adjusted his position, perched just between Neptune’s neck and sail on the specially made saddle. With nothing else to do and the monotonous squelching of the marsh beneath them, he reached into his satchel, pulling out his weathered drawing book and a set of dyed waxes. Flipping to his most recent sketch, he smiled to himself.

“Alright,” he muttered, running a thumb over the partially completed drawing. “Where did I leave off?”

He studied the image carefully, his eyes darting between the page and the living subject trudging through the muck below. Neptune’s claws dug deep into the marsh with each step, sharp and curved like scythes. Aaric began shading them in with dark strokes, muttering as he worked. “Sharp claws, perfect for tearing through prey or anything dumb enough to challenge a Spinosaur. Check.”

Next, he moved to the head, carefully detailing the elongated, crocodilian snout. “Long, narrow mouth with teeth sharp enough to ruin any suit of armor,” Aaric murmured, glancing up at Neptune’s impressive maw. “And those golden eyes—sharp, intelligent, always watching. Probably judging me for this sketch right now.”

He grinned to himself and moved down the page. “Your padded feet,” he continued, sketching the broad, flat toes. “That tail—broad, paddle-like, and strong enough to send anything flying. Perfect for swimming or ramming any other theropod dumb enough to get in your way. And, of course, the crown jewel…”

Aaric turned around and ran a hand across Neptune’s towering sail, its orange-yellow spots glowing faintly in the fading light. Neptune let out a low rumble, a sound so close to a purr that Aaric couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Your sail,” he said, shading in the pattern of spots. “Like embers glowing on a dark, midnight-blue canvas. Can’t forget those sandy colors on your legs and hands, either. There. All done.”

He held up the drawing, inspecting it with a satisfied smile before tilting it forward. “What do you think, big guy? Want to see?”

Neptune glanced at the drawing with a sideways flick of his golden eye before letting out a snort and trudging forward, unimpressed.

Aaric laughed, tucking the book away. “Oh, don’t give me that attitude. It’s the best I could do with what I had.”

The Spinosaurus growled softly, the sound carrying a note of begrudging acceptance as they pressed on through the marsh.

The Marshlands gradually gave way to open plains, and in the distance, the towering walls of London loomed against the horizon. Catapults lined the fortifications, manned by soldiers and dinosaurs alike. Overhead, Pterosaurs circled like living sentinels, their silhouettes flitting across the hazy sky.

Aaric’s frown deepened as he took in the sight. London had always been a peaceful capital, a city without need for walls or patrols. But the recent northern rebellions—the very ones he had just come back from—had sown fear among the populace. Now, the city bristled with defenses, a fortress rather than the welcoming hub he remembered.

Glancing back at his companion, Aaric spoke in a firm tone. “Alright, Neptune. I know you’re a prideful creature who has no tolerance for disrespect, but things are different now. Let me handle the guards and their creatures. No snapping, no growling, and no tearing anyone in half. Got it?”

The Spinosaurus rumbled, a deep sound somewhere between annoyance and indignation. His amber eyes glinted as if to say, How dare you suggest I’d stoop so low?

Aaric sighed, his voice taking on a coercive tone. “Look, if you behave, I’ll make it worth your while. Extra trout tonight. Your favorite.”

That did the trick. Neptune let out a low snort of approval, his powerful tail sweeping lazily behind him as they continued toward the gates.

As they approached, Aaric dismounted and took hold of Neptune’s reins, leading the massive theropod carefully. The city gates were heavily guarded, a line of saddled raptors and their riders forming a living barricade. Behind them, armoured triceratops stood in place as makeshift doors, their sheer bulk a practical alternative to opening the massive gates for every visitor.

Naturally, the sight of a Spinosaurus drew immediate attention. Guards whispered to one another, and passersby stopped to gawk. Aaric ignored them, his focus on the three raptors that broke formation to flank him and Neptune. The escorts clicked and chirped to one another, their sharp eyes fixed on the newcomer. Neptune responded with a warning snap of his jaws, earning startled hisses from the raptors but no retaliation, so far so good.

They reached the gates just as a knight stepped forward to intercept them. The man was clad in full armor bearing the royal crest, his face obscured by a gleaming helm. The sight of a royal guard at the entrance was unusual, and Aaric’s brow furrowed in confusion. Still, he inclined his head respectfully.

“Greetings, sir,” Aaric said. “I seek entry into London.”

The knight studied him for a moment, his gaze shifting between Aaric and Neptune. Finally, he spoke, his voice muffled but firm. “A short man in black armor, carrying twin swords, accompanied by a Spinosaurus. You must be Sir Aaric Godwin—the Wandering Knight.”

Aaric winced internally. So much for slipping in unnoticed. And why did people insist on calling him short? 5,9 was not short! Keeping his tone neutral, he replied, “Indeed, though I’d prefer just Aaric. These titles tend to be more trouble than they’re worth. And you are?”

“Sir Lionel of House Sulhope,” the knight replied. “I’ve been stationed here after recent... incidents. A pleasure to meet you. Your reputation precedes you—tales of the Wandering Knight and his mighty Spinosaurus are known even here.”

Ugh...an admirer, Aaric cringed internally, wishing he'd brought a cloak to better hide himself, though hiding Neptune would've been a whole other world of problems. He gave a dry chuckle and said “Careful with the flattery, Sir Lionel. Neptune has a big enough ego as it is.”

Behind him, Neptune let out a rumbling growl to remind him he could hear every word. Aaric waved a dismissive hand and pressed on. “So, may we enter?”

Lionel’s expression darkened. “I’m afraid not. The city is on lockdown. No one may enter without direct permission from a duke or higher.”

“Lockdown?” Aaric’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“You haven’t heard?” Lionel asked, tilting his head slightly. “Flyers were dispatched across England with the news.”

“I’ve spent the last two days slogging through marshes and grasslands" Aaric replied. “What happened, the King got offended by another French ambassador?”

Lionel frowned, clearly not a fan of sarcasm, before he spoke gravely. “The king—Henry I—has been assassinated. Prussian spies infiltrated the palace and struck him down under the cover of darkness. His daughter, Princess Sophia III, has ascended to the throne. Her coronation concluded yesterday.”

Aaric stared at the knight, the weight of the news sinking in. The king...assassinated? By Prussians? England and Prussia had been on good terms for years. What could have prompted such an act of treachery? Even Neptune, usually restless, seemed to sense the gravity of the moment and fell unnervingly quiet.

“I see,” Aaric said finally, his voice a bit quiet. “May he rest in peace. And there’s no way to enter the city?”

Lionel nodded. “Not without proper authorization. However, there’s a camp set up east of here where travelers—”

A sudden flutter of wings interrupted him as a Sinomacrops—a small, feathered pterosaur—landed on his shoulder. The creature carried a rolled letter tied to its leg. Lionel untied it, scanning the message quickly before turning back to Aaric.

“Change of plans,” he announced. “You’ve been summoned to the royal palace for an audience with the Queen. You may enter, provided you swear your Spinosaurus will neither harm civilians nor damage property.”

An audience with the Queen? Aaric’s day had taken a decidedly unexpected turn. Nevertheless, he nodded. “I swear on my honor as a knight and all that Neptune will behave.”

Lionel nodded sharply and whistled. The triceratops blocking the entrance shifted aside, clearing the way. Aaric climbed back onto Neptune’s saddle, and together they passed through the gates. The raptors escorting them peeled away to resume their patrols, leaving Aaric and Neptune to navigate the eerily empty streets of London.

For better or worse, they had arrived.

Neptune the Spinosaurus