War raged outside. The Retalian Army fought Minisia's, Bagnia's army fought the Retalian Army, and Bagnia's army fought Minisia's.
Lawrence Darnell knew, but he wanted nothing to do with that damned mess now. He was tired of war, and he thought his current life was good.
The baron leaned against the doorway of the tent assigned to them, his rough fingers absently rubbing the thick, hard-wearing Gray-Brown Cotton Coat issued to everyone.
Indistinct horn calls drifted from the distance. Perhaps Raitelian scouts were trying to approach the camp again for a close reconnaissance, or perhaps some Bagnian cavalry unit was returning victorious?
Lawrence could not be bothered to tell the difference, and refused to try. It had little to do with him.
Raitelia, Minisia, Bagnia... those names rolled over his tongue, leaving only the bitterness of rust and ash.
The bloody storm unleashed by the Raitelian invaders, which had swept through his lands and his family, had long since burned away the last remnants of loyalty, honor, and homeland in his heart.
Lawrence was furious. He could understand Bagnia's invasion and knew Anvil Fortress could never hold it back, but the appearance of the Retalians could mean only one thing... someone had deliberately withdrawn the border guards and let the invaders in.
The border between Minisia and Raitelia was entirely different from the border between Minisia and Bagnia.
At the latter, Bagnia held the high ground, with many routes down the mountains. Anvil Fortress blocked only the largest road and could do nothing about the smaller paths.
The former was different. The Kaslo Mountains separated Minisia from Raitelia, with only one place where either side could cross. Both countries had built fortress complexes on their respective sides, easy to defend and difficult to attack.
Professional mercenaries hired from Bagnia guarded