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Chapter 155: The March South
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Chapter 157: The Return of the Druids
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... he head of his host, his destrier’s hooves clopping against half-frozen mud.
Behind him stretched a column of men, thanes in mail, spearmen in rough brigandines, archers wrapped in cloaks against the chill.
Their banners, stag, thistle, saltire, fluttered beside the wolf-banners Vetrúlfr’s riders had planted along the path like grisly waystones.
Every village they passed was the same.
A charred cross toppled into a ditch. A granary split open, its wheat scattered ...
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