The fire had almost died and the mead was gone; the Red Twins were snoring on each other loudly. Only Dagaz and Engel were awake, staring into the redness of the embers. Engel thought it looked like blood crystallized. He wondered if Dagaz had ever seen real blood earned in battle. He was about to ask when the door of the hut creaked open and Jente stepped out. She looked pale, exhausted.
“Well?” Old Master asked.
“We mobilize, sweep south and east, and we mingle, settle, drop roots, and wait.” Jente handed him a crudely drawn map.
Old Master smiled.
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