"Line the cannons up!" Gauzlin shouted happily, riding his horse onto the smooth surface.
"Double column! Keep the infantry on the flanks!"
Lothair rode his dark horse onto the gravel, he looked down the long path cutting through the dense pine forest.
It led directly toward the rear of the Viking port, bypassing the rugged hills and deep mud.
"They built us a highway to their back door," Gauzlin laughed, riding up next to Lothair. "King Erik is going to shit his pants when he sees fifty bronze cannons rolling down his own logging road."
"Don't get cocky," Lothair warned, though he allowed a small, grim smile to touch his lips.
"Keep the scouts riding ahead. If this is a logging route, we might run into a Viking work camp. I do not want any alarms raised before we have the cannons aimed at the city."
Even so, the march became incredibly fast.
What would have taken them a full day of brutal, labor in the mud was reduced to a swift walk.
