The Darkest of Nights - Part 12

"NONSENSE!" Gorm shouted. Every word was a shout by now. He couldn't calm him. Even as his anger boiled, and he swore, Jok noted that the smile on his face was only growing. "THESE DOGS HAVE PREPARED US THEIR BEST EFFORT! WE WILL CRUSH THEM AT THEIR STRONGEST!"

"At least make use of our numbers, Earl," Jok protested. "From the look of it, they've concentrated all their men to the east."

"THEY'D ONLY MOVE AS WE MOVE," Gorm shouted. "NO! WE GO FOR THE HEADS OF THEIR LEADERS. THIS FORT IS NOTHING MORE THAN A WOODEN WALL BEFORE MY AXE."

"A wooden wall still seems sturdy enough, to most people," Jok said back, under his breath. But he knew what the Earl meant, for he had seen it. To him, wood was a mere trifle. It was what grass was to most men. He had ceased to consider it an obstacle long ago.