Fury of the Crown

And so it begins…

And so it begins…

Jack Marlowe sat on his horse, surveying the distant enemy lines. "I don't mean to alarm you, Your Highness, but we appear to be significantly outnumbered."

Prince Alric smiled. "Don't worry. Fitz has it all in hand."

The cavalier turned to look at his master. "We are outnumbered two to one. Granted, the fellow has some experience, but I think this time he might have bitten off more than he can chew."

"The baron knows what he's doing."

"Then why is he being advised by a smith?"

Alric chuckled. "You mean Aldwin? He's a lord now, remember?"

"Yes, but hardly a military advisor."

"I doubt the baron's seeking advice. More than likely he's taking the opportunity to teach his new son-in-law a thing or two about battle." The prince shifted his gaze to the cavalier. "Why so glum, Jack? I thought you lived for combat?"

"I do, but I'd feel much better knowing we had our own cavalry here instead of these…"

"Mercerians?"

"I have nothing against them as a people, but I can't accept that a bunch of commoners could make effective horsemen. And even then, we have very few of them. Why couldn't we have the Queen's Guard?"

"You mean the Guard Cavalry?" corrected the prince. "That's simple; they were needed elsewhere. There's still a frontier to guard, and they can't send everything they have here to Eastwood."

"But the Norlanders have had all winter to rest, and we've had to march through rain and mud."

Alric chuckled. "We'll win. Just you wait and see."

"I admire your faith," said Jack, "but I'd prefer to trust in the power of a good blade."