Chapter 49

• The command cave was thick with the smoke of torches and tobacco, the smell of unwashed bodies, oiled leather, and undiluted wine.
• Corvo stood at a broad table made of rough-hewn boards, both hands braced against a map of the foothills. Around him crowded the senior officers of the Steel Eagles—Gareon, the One-Eyed Wolf, and four other sergeants whose faces looked like battered blocks of wood.
• They were growling quietly at one another over patrols and the shortage of arrows when the heavy bearskin covering the entrance lifted.