The days slipped by in peace. Drills filled the yard, supplies were tallied, and the nights passed without alarm. It almost felt as though the storm had quieted.
Then, one morning, the beat of wings broke the calm. A golden eagle swept down from the sky, its cry sharp as it descended into the courtyard. The soldiers paused their work, eyes following as the bird landed, the message tube at its leg glinting in the light.
…..
Minutes later, the meeting room grew still as the scout's report was read aloud.
Hush settled over the gathered Knights and captains. A single parchment lay on the table between them, dozens of marks, a roughly drawn map, and the note, Vikings. Small warband, likely foraging.
Gordon rubbed his temple. "If they're only a raiding band, we can send a small force to intercept. No need to pull everyone."
Sorrin glanced up, cautious. "We should be careful. Even small parties can ruin a march if they hit the civilians."
