McDonald rode along the mountain road, panting for breath. Still shaken, he looked behind him. He could see no enemies, only the Restoration Army soldiers jogging after him and the clear blue sky.
At last, McDonald let out a sigh of relief. The enemy had not pursued them. He was safe.
Only then did McDonald pull on the reins and bring his horse to a halt. He dismounted and stood by the roadside, intending to rest for a while.
Galloping flat out was no easy task. McDonald's backside and thighs ached, and his whole body was exhausted. He needed a rest.
"Huff... sir... huff..."
The sergeant major who had commanded the Spearmen in the rear guard caught up just then. He found McDonald and spoke without waiting to catch his breath.
"We... what happened? Cough, cough... how did we lose?"
McDonald turned to look at the sergeant major. The man was not from Bagnia; he was a military Advisor sent by the Bohemian Empire.
McDonald had no idea what a military Advisor was, so he had simply made the Bohemian a sergeant major in his force.
Now this Bohemian was asking why they had lost.
That was an excellent question. McDonald wanted to know the answer himself. The enemy musketeers had merely charged them, so how had his own musketeers collapsed?
Faced with the military Advisor's question, he had nothing to say. He frowned and thought for a long time, but still could not come up with an answer.
"I don't know."
"How can you not know..."
Before the man could finish, McDonald saw the red-faced Bohemian pitch forward. Almost at the same instant that he landed facedown, McDonald heard a sharp report from far away.
McDonald froze for a moment, then realized what had happened.
"Someone's shooting at us!"