The dim light of the oil lamp flickered against the walls.
Cold sweat poured down General Howe's pale face, dripping onto his graying mustache. He stared at the hooded figure in black standing near the broken doorway. The cold air in the room felt heavy, making it hard for him to draw a single breath into his lungs.
Before General Howe could open his trembling mouth to speak, loud and fast footsteps echoed from the outer hallway.
"General Howe!" a man shouted from outside.
A tall figure rushed into the bedroom from the corridor. It was General Howe's aide with a drawn sword in his hand. The aide had heard the loud boom of the broken door and rushed upstairs to protect his commander.
The aide saw the dark, hooded intruder standing in the center of the room. Without slowing down, he raised his sword and charged straight toward Camilla's back.
"Get away from the General!" the aide yelled, his sword cutting through the air.
