Forty-fourMathias jumped down from his horse, handing the reins to a waiting sergeant of grenadiers, and strode up the huge stairs that led into the château. The guards at the entrance came to attention with a snap of their heels, Mathias acknowledging them with a flick of his hand to the peak of his helmet. A low-flying airship sailed by, its engines belching thick black smoke and he peered skywards, shielding his eyes against the sun. One more piece of the gigantic preparations for the greatest assault on another nation the world had ever known.
Inside, the noise hit him like a fist and he stopped for a moment, allowing his eyes to grow accustomed to the gloom. Aides-de-camp hurried here and there, carrying bundles of rolled-up maps and other documents. The bark of officers, the rattle
