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Twilight arrives as we clear the forest. We evaded our pursuers on the great road on the other side of the trees some hours ago and now we stand on the edge of a wide river basin. This gravel river bed is at least a mile wide, rising to untamed hills on the far side. At this time of year many meandering channels of water splash past, none more than 30 feet wide.

Exhausted, we make camp and light a small fire from the available brush and dead branches. We still have our swords and the powder for our wheel-lock pistols is dry. With no more than three days rations and conscious of the relentless pursuit of The Brotherhood we settle down for the night.

How can we deliver the message through the beseiging lines at St Rochelle, especially in light of the betrayal of our Colonel and the disbanding of our regiment?

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