The fog clung low to the rolling fields of Rivemount as Claude rode at the front of a black-cloaked column, Samson at his side and their elite unit of forty handpicked soldiers trailing behind.
They advanced quietly with no banners, no horns, only the soft rumble of hooves and their smile of excitement.
After all, Raven gives him information about how messy the council become.
How they were now in panic and couldn't think straight and the gossip about the king being mad and the church brainwashing him.
Hyparia was crumbling inside and out.
Claude's eyes turned to the city gates that were shut but unguarded. Most of the town's defenders had been sent east two nights ago, fearing an illusionary invasion at Windbarrow. Claude's gambit had worked perfectly.
Arrows flew from the watchtower as they approached.
"Huh, seemed like they will attack anyone closer," he said as the lead horse bucked and whinnied as a shaft grazed its flank.
"Shields," Samson barked.
