A battlefield has no idea what is about to happen to it.

After dressing and eating a small meal of fresh bread and fruits I send Rodney to bring in the commanders. They are already waiting outside my tent, at least the ones who have hopes of a successful career. My servant holds open the tent flap and they file in.

“Gentlemen, good morning.” They surround me at the large table with the map. They take their spots. Hadalvi, of the First Calvary to my immediate left, Stone, who commands the Royal Archers next to him. My most trusted commander, Francis Zinn who leads the Third Infantry, stands on my right and catches my gaze. These three, with some 5 more subordinates fill the tent.

“General, our scouting reports show the enemy massing on the far side of the field, with the forest at their backs and a small brook between them and us.” Zinn leads off.

“Their flanks are exposed, we should take advantage, " adds Hadalvi in typical fashion, “my horses can split off -”

“Let us consider…a retreat.”

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