William was woken that night by the yells of men and the whinnying of terrified horses. As he stumbled out of his tent and looked around, the saw the entire camp descending into disarray as men tried in vain to smother columns of fierce flames with blankets and canvas tarps.
Moraigthians must have snuck into the camp again and deliberately set fires. William clutched a handful of his hair in rage.
At first, it appeared as if the fires were contained in a relatively small area, instead of being widespread through the small city of tents. That gave William hope that the consequences would be relatively minor - an annoyance as opposed to serious harm.
It was only when he got closer to the flames and realised what they were consuming, that despair pressed on his chest like a leaden weight.
