Oliver shook his head. "No, we do not," Oliver said. "Perhaps I was already moving with those intentions – but for it to be said aloud. It feels different, weighs different. But alas, we are stuck in it. We will see it through to the end. This is the path the Emerson King chose, and I will feel no pity for him."
Where the Emerson army marched throughout the night, for they were forced to, with the horses that lay behind them in the form of Blackthorn's scouts, eternally harassing them, wearing them out, Oliver had his army rest in Yingel. He had expected the Blackthorn General to protest, but the man had been in agreement. He had simply sent another detachment of cavalry out, with the aim of killing any of the scouts that Fitzer might send behind him, to rob him of the information of their location. To let him assume that they were still hot in pursuit, and that he too needed to continue further.
