"I thought we were leaving?" Lorna asked, following close behind Talmot.
The General led them under the budding light of brisk dawn through the practice yard of Fort Balvier, but instead of turning toward the stables, he veered toward Commander Jeanu's office. "We are my dear, but first there is a matter that requires my attention," Talmot said with a grin.
Talmot took a certain amount of satisfaction at seeing a worried look wash over the delicate features of the witch's face as they entered the Commander's small study. The smell of old cigars and stale whiskey still permeated the air, but there was little that could shake him from the excellent mood he woke up in this morning.
The Commander's squat form lounged at his desk, eyes still bleary from too much drink the night before. His tone was genial; however, and Talmot assumed the man was always in good spirits, hungover or not.
