Twenty-Four
Middenfield
Autumn 961 MC
The army stretched out for miles, strung along the northern road leading to Middenfield. Gerald rode with Anna in the centre of the column that stretched before and behind them like a long snake. The cold of winter was just around the corner, the chill in the air forming a thin cloud of mist that hovered over the troops.
The pace had been relentless, and now, four days after leaving the capital, they were within sight of the town of Middenfield. He watched as a lone rider trotted back along the column, the distinctive horse easily identifying its rider; Dame Beverly.
She drew closer, finally falling into step with them.
"What is it?" he asked.
"We have news," the red-headed knight responded, "but it's not good, I'm afraid."
"Let's have it," he
