Hunter's Rage: Book 3 Of The Civil War Chronicles - Plot & Excerpts
It had been a hard day’s march, made slow by the interminable terrain and the word, from a local drover, that a reasonable Roundhead force was stalking the area east of Tavistock. He had seen nothing during the day, and wondered whether the frightened man had cooked the tale somewhat, assuming the juicier – and, by turns, more useful – his information, the less hostile the soldiers would be. Nevertheless, it had been a painstaking march west, made all the more sullen by the failure of their task. At least, Forrester thought as he ground grubby palms into tired, stinging eyes, they had found the tavern, so that a decent repast could be enjoyed prior to their journey’s final leg. Forrester placed his hands on the table and pushed himself up off the creaking bench. His head swooned a little, though that was down to exhaustion rather than drink, for he had only imbibed small ale this evening. The reports regarding enemy activity had disquieted him, and he had taken it upon himself to stay up late in order to keep an eye over the building.
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