When Laine led the army and bid farewell to Francois, returning to the Count Glamorgan's domain, it was already winter.
The snow began to fall again, and Laine suddenly realized that he was almost thirty-two. He chuckled at himself, time indeed flies. When he set out from Nord, he was just twenty-four, a knight, and now he was nearly thirty-two, a count.
After returning to his territory, he disbanded the army, distributed pay and pensions, and everyone returned home to celebrate the Winter Festival. The casualty rate in Laine's army this time was about 25%, which was barely acceptable, though it required some time to replenish and recover.
On a winter day, Laine invited Belgar to the winery as a guest. The two sat in the dining room drinking and chatting idly. Belgar held a beer mug and a plate of roasted lamb leg lay on the table, which he ate heartily.
