Opening the shift, he entered with a proud and determined step, three of his own soldiers following him.Įduard smiled to him. He had arrived at the camp, and as soon as he heard word of his summons Marcin marched to the Capital Tent. While fruitless, it had kept him and his men busy, a measly five-hundred or so, from their original numbers, which tripled the size of the Basrabian levies. The count’s cavalry had been ruthlessly checking the area for any nordic spies. Inside his tent stood Eduard leaning against the table, with three guards guarding the tent. He had been refusing talks with the count ever since the battle, and the news of Adam’s desertion had reached him. Eduard had summoned Count Marcin Corvinus, to his tent. The soldiers had their tents set up and the camp was alive and safe. The army had moved south of the border of the Norseland, arriving in Three Rivers where they had set up camp for the night.
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