TWENTY-FIVE
Betrayal
SPRING 966 MC
Gerald stepped out into the sunshine, only to sink up to his ankles in mud. He cursed as he pulled free, then made his way to the side of the road. Today was the first decent weather they'd had in almost a week, but it would likely be some time before the army could continue the advance. The march to Summersgate had been discussed for days on end, every possibility accounted for, yet still he felt nervous.
It wasn't that he was afraid of a siege. He had, after all, successfully taken Wincaster at the end of the civil war, but the threat of dragons loomed over everything. His saving grace was the presence of Dwarven arbalesters and Elven archers, both of which, he hoped, would be able to penetrate the thick scales of such a beast. He was reminded of th
