In the effort to simply move, to free himself from the icy nature of fear, Fitzer put the heels to the sides of his horse, and the beast responded in kind, driving him forward. With it, it seemed as if, to a degree, that spell had been broken. Fitzer found his voice enough that he could call out to the men nearest to him, reassuring them.
"Hold," he told them, his closer comrades, his higher officers. "One blunder does not rid us of our superior numerical might. They are still merely three hundred."
