3 bar menu

Vol.5, Ch.5, P.6

Aye, it ’appen’d swift one night, after th’commandant ‘ad shog’d off t’spy on Nafíl country. Couldn’t blame ‘im, really. The en’my ’ad gone reight quiet by then. Summat’s afoot, we all thought to usselves. Summat, indeed. But then, th’night watch spotted th’queerest thing: torches creepin’ in th’woods yonder. Hundreds o’ ’em. Maybe thousands.

An ill sight that were. But we knew it then: Nafílses. They were comin’. An’ all th’fort were roused reight swift. But without th’commandant nor even Ebbe an’ ’is lacqueys ’round, it were pure chaos, I tells ye. An’ certain’ ’nough, th’Nafílses appear’d in force, reight up to us gates. But jus’ when we thought this night would be us last, he came ’fore us: th’commandant ’isself, demandin’ terms o’ surrender. From us, ’is very own fort-men.

Aye,