Horna entered the room where her subordinate had told Ragnar to wait for an audience. Candle flames flickered in wall sconces, while fragrant resin burned in a bowl.
The shutters had been opened, allowing the cold, fresh night air to flow inside.
Through the window, Horna could see the distant silhouette of Dunwich Cathedral gleaming in the darkness, its muffled echoes of screams carried on the night wind.
"Captain Ragnar."
He rose from a low sofa. He had cleaned himself up a little, but it could not conceal his conspicuously pale face or the strangulation marks around his neck.
He was wearing a nonstandard canvas jacket someone else had given him.
"Colonel."
Ragnar nodded, his voice sounding somewhat unfamiliar.
She walked straight over and embraced him, though her arms could barely reach around his upper arm.
"Oh, I thought you were dead!"
She buried her head in his chest and cried out.
"So did I."
Horna stepped back and looked at him.
"I heard you took men to look for Fifth Squad. What happened afterward was a complete slaughter... none of them escaped."
"Not quite none."
Ragnar answered calmly.
"I was lucky. I found Tato, and another dozen or so made it out with us. It was a terrible experience. We..."
He paused.
"We were never far from death, but we still escaped. We got a vehicle and came back... with some people's help."
Horna nodded, sat down on the sofa, and extended her psychic senses outside.
One of her subordinates immediately entered.
"Food and wine, girl, at once."
Horna ordered, and the woman promptly hurried out to carry out the colonel's command.
"The mess hall already gave me food and drink, Horna."
Ragnar shook his head and sat opposite her.
"You're hungry. You need to eat more. You said