"All ready, Commander," Harland said formally. The men were lined up behind them in their respective squadrons. They made camp within those same squadrons and ate within them. Even those squadrons made up of men that had hardly spoken to each other before were forced to get just a little fraction closer.
All those tiny fractions were compounded in a cohesion that was noticeably significant. The sort of thing that one could never have expected, seeing the men under Blackbeard just over a week before. Those men were far from being an army. They were merely raiders that happened to be gathering in the same area, under the same leader.
"Then we march," Vol declared, mounting the horse that Harland held ready for him. It was the only horse amongst their entire lot, being that it was a gift of Nolan's. Nolan had a few more than that for his own group, though they were only ridden by his closest aids.
