Lucas reined his horse to a halt as the terrain ahead subtly changed, the air carrying a tension that had nothing to do with the wind, and he raised his fist for the squad to stop. One by one they slowed, hooves pressing into the dirt until silence settled over them. A day's ride ahead lay the usurpers' camp, close enough to feel but far enough to avoid detection, and Lucas knew this was as far as they could safely push without the main force behind them.
"We wait here," he said, his voice calm but heavy, as his eyes swept across the land ahead. "No noise. Keep rotations tight."
Bartho nodded. "So they're really that close now."
"Close enough," Lucas replied quietly, his thoughts already drifting to what awaited them once the king arrived.
