He walks over to you and claps you on the shoulder. "You did well there, Basileios. Normally, the Black Wolves kill any prisoners they have at the first sign of trouble. I'm glad you survived." He looks at Vanya, who stands next to you. "And you, Vanya of the Narrow River. If you have aided one of our own, then you have my thanks."
"How did you know when to attack?" you ask Kral. "I gave no signal."
"It's a strange thing," says Kral, smoothing a hand thoughtfully over his mustache. "We…just knew. We felt confident, prepared…angry, even, that they had taken you prisoner. I gave the order to charge, and you saw what happened."
"When I said that Svarog would help us, I meant it," you say. "What you witnessed just now was his assistance. The gods are on our side, Kral."
"The gods," scoffs Kral, though you see a little hesitation in his eyes. "Courage and steel is what it is, just like I said." He shrugs. "In any case, the victory is ours, and with any victory come spoils. Come, Basileios, you must decide what to do with our prisoners."
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