"That they will," Vale agreed. It was about the only thing that they had agreed upon that day. The same process had happened with the other Syndrans. They'd arrived uncertain, but bit by bit, they had been fed the feeling of immortality that the Sea Serpents were able to create on the battlefield. They were led to be intoxicated by it, more addictive than any opioid was likely to be. It numbed the fear of battle, and brought about an excessive want for it. It was a Yarmdon addiction.
"The men are ready," the moustached nobleman informed them, after a time.
"Get his name," Vol asked of Batinkog.
"I am Justus Fieldcarer," the man introduced himself solemnly. "A knight of Count Tiller, as you very well know."
Vol nodded at the information. "He will be useful, serving as a go between with us and Tiller's men, when it is necessary. Have the order given through him, and shout it yourself. We move now, and we pick our battlefield."
