The results of the fire, after those three hours were obvious – the gate was done, just as General Talon had predicted. A hole had been charred clean through it. The barest remnants of the gate still clung to the frame, betwixt the two thick log walls, but even they seemed charred enough to fall at any second.
In other words, the Macalister Fort, at last, had been breached. That was a fact that was undeniable.
"My Lord," Verdant said, patting him proudly on the shoulder. He saw it just as well as Oliver did. They'd managed to bridge that gap, finally, without losing another man. Now, their fighting ground with the Macalister General was all but level, aside from the cruel number differential that separated them.
