"Those damned Vikings."
Dawn had yet to break. The stars and moon had dimmed, and cold dew rose from beneath the earth, coating the ground and vegetation in patches of white frost. Its biting chill made the insects sheltering in the soil and the squirrels in their burrows curl up tighter, doing their best to withstand the cold that arrived without fail each day.
The curse came from a hillside. The voice was familiar; had Zeng Mu been within a li of it, he would have recognized the speaker at once.
Kanni lay prone on the ground, the chill seeping inward through his armor. Although he wore close-fitting winter clothing beneath it, after more than an hour in this position, the fabric could only keep the cold from penetrating his bones. His pores and muscles were still exposed to its bite. This was not a cold an ordinary person could endure.
But years in the army had accustomed him to it, just like the fifteen hundred knights lying concealed behind him and throughout the surrounding five hundred meters.
"Those sons of bitches have attacked us before dawn two days running. If they dare come again today, we'll give them a proper taste of an ambush," he continued cursing.
Beside him, Aikimu joined in the grumbling. "If I capture the leader of their legion alive, I'll pluck out his beard hair by hair and use it to brush my shoes. Then I'll chop off his fingers one by one and feed them to the falcons as treats."
"Speaking of which, the boss is lying in ambush less than two li to our left, right? If the enemy reaches his side first, we'll have to hurry over to support him. If they come our way first, though, hmph, I'll capture that bastard