"Mi'Lord?" The soldier's tone forces Duke Conner, brother to the crown, to shake off his reverie and turn away from the window. "Yes?" "The usurper's forces are here. We count at least two thousand." The soldier takes a deep breath. "If they launch an immediate attack, we'll be hard-pressed to fight it off." "Did we get the pigeons away?" "Yes, Mi'Lord. As you instructed." Turning back to the window, the Duke takes a deep breath. "They'll need to rest. They will wait for first light before attacking. Deploy our forces. We'll need our bannermen to make all speed if we are to make it through the morrow."
Raise your lances!
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