Chapter 92 Act 2
The forest fell into complete silence, devoid of insect chirps or bird calls, and was thick with the aura of imminent danger.
Therefore, the series of horse hoof beats in the distance seemed particularly abrupt.
The soldiers atop the camp walls raised their muskets, aiming in the direction of the hoof beats, their fingers resting on the firing lever.
The smoldering match cord flickered dimly, and the musketeers' taut jaws were barely visible, each unconsciously swallowing saliva.
Three horsemen broke through the night, heading straight for the camp gate.
Seeing the lead horseman's black armor and silver warhorse, the soldiers on the walls immediately shouted, "Don't shoot! It's Centurion Montaigne!"
A chorus of relieved breaths filled the air above the wall as the musketeers replaced their pan covers, unhooked their matches, propped their muskets against the wall, and returned to a ready stance.
"Open the gate!"
"Creak... Creak..."