Yet when they were at the other end of Cambry, lining up before the gate that they were certain to charge, he could find no evidence of their battle preparations. Something was off, and a good few men were frowning, himself and Firyr included.
"...Are we not attacking?" Firyr murmured.
When General Blackthorn and Oliver Patrick came marching by, one could practically see the devious smiles on their faces. With their backs to Cambry, they thread their way through their men, and took to the front.
A gamble, one that was only evident when the order was given, and the men began to follow along behind their General and their King.
"What?" Kraxus said.
"Bloody bastard," Firyr laughed. "Gods be damned, he's a bastard alright. Our King Patrick! All hail!" He shouted, and a good portion of the Patrick men echoed him, celebrating his name.
"What?" Kraxus said. "What are you so happy about? I don't understand it."
