"What happened to my army?" Prince Varrack cried when Captain-General Errock pulled up alongside, his horse breathing like a bellows.
The Captain-General's face was white and there was blood splattered across his breastplate. "A lot of good men died because we under-estimated the enemy. It's the Trickster's own luck that the Ros-Zarthani didn't decide to chase us to the City walls."
"This is good fortune?" Varrack screamed, looking around at the ragtag collection of horsemen that surrounded him, their finery soiled and their plumed helmets discarded. "We have lost a great battle, and you talk of luck!"
"We will be laughed out of the City," one of the Barons cried.
Varrack punched the Baron in the face with his armored hand, knocking him off his horse and onto the ground, where he was stretched out frozen as if he'd been poleaxed.
"You've killed him, Varrack!" the young Count cried. "This day has been a disaster for all of us."
Except Theovacar, thought Varrack, who right this moment is laughing himself off his throne! He ground his teeth until they squealed. If we'd had King Theovacar's support, this defeat would never have happened. He withheld his soldiers to play us as fools! This disaster is his fault. Theovacar is in the pay of the Usurper Kalvan, as the priests of Styphon's House claim, otherwise he would have helped us take the field. Yes, this disaster is the result ofTheovacar's treason! Wait until the City learns of it.