* * *
Lincolnshire
Topaz and her army, their scouts ahead of them, continued their march south across the open field dotted with buttercups, daisies and clover. The broiling sun beat down upon them. Topaz wiped her brow with the hem of her sleeve.
The thundering of hoofbeats approaching from the opposite direction caught her attention. The column came to a stop as the rider neared. Vogts squinted and called over his shoulder to Topaz, “'Tis only Muller. I sent him ahead to scout the lay of the land. Let's see what he has to report.”
Muller reined in his horse. The sweat glistened on the animal's back and he foamed at the mouth.
“Fetch water for this horse!” Topaz commanded as Muller regained his breath.
“Lord Clifford and his battles are marching to meet us,” Muller reported. “They'r
