The sun sinks behind the horizon. The troops are fed and lounge, cleaning their weapons and chatting in whispers. LdC: Note how the LtCol paces by his tent. He's been at it most of the afternoon. RdK: He has been very upset since the last dispatch for the MoS seemed to extend his sentence. I've heard it whispered that he has been advised to seek clemency for His Majesty. He seems too proud to do that. AdM: He sits by his campaign desk, writes a note, the throws it into the fire. he has done that more than 12 times since evening muster, MdK: BdA sent a message from the Cardinal's quarters, I wonder what it said? RdK: I heard the men muttering that they wouldn't stay in Paris when we return, rather they would claim a family emergency and rejoin FeP in the field. OdR; Look, he's written a hasty note again and sent it off with a messenger. Looks like he is writing a second and having it witnessed. I wonder what that could be. The campfires slowly recede as the evening mist envelops the campsite.
