The entire day was wasted to rain.
Having to be so stagnant and sitting around all the time wasn't something that knights, who relied on constant movement, preferred to do.
If someone were to peer into the cave, they would think the two muscular men standing in their breeches with nothing else on had gone mad. They were waiting for their pants to dry by the fire and the progress was slow.
Since the cave was large enough to stand in but not large enough to swing a sword, the two men faced each other with dried-up sticks in their hands. The intention was for firewood but they had found an alternate use.
"You have gotten worse in your old age," Henry shot at the commander.
He had just stabbed the other man in the wrist with the brittle branch.
"Age is nothing compared to lack of experience," Callum returned with a comeback.
He brought his own stick down and chopped Henry's easily in half.
