After all, the best raiders could only really do one big raid a season, or perhaps two, if they were well-supplied for it. Their scores would be of the level of the Green Skins, if he fought with everything he had, and exercised his plans perfectly. Never was a raiding party in a position like Vol's, where they could fight seemingly without end, taking from whoever came their way.
And within two days, another party of men did come. A bright sunny spring day – that was the day that would mark their end. A hungry Vol sat in his place on the valley side, watching their approach.
"There's a lot of them," Northy commented. "Must be five hundred men there."
"More numbers to be had for us, then," Vol replied. "Baterick – your thoughts?"
