The night grew deeper.
A squad of cavalry continued forward in the path illuminated by the torchlight.
The horses galloped at great speed, the torches held by dozens of soldiers forming an angle of one hundred and forty degrees due to the blowing wind.
The sound of the roaring flames kept echoing.
The thundering hooves resonated and reverberated in the wilderness.
In front of them loomed the outline of a massive black city wall.
There, lay Bordeaux City!
Although it was already curfew time with the city closed.
But this squad of cavalry passed through the city gate, entering in single file.
Galloping on the muddy roads of the outer district, crossing the cobblestone roads of the inner district.
Finally.
The cavalry entered Marquis Ducas's Castle.
Mark Ducas dismounted from his tall horse at the front.
He turned to look at the dozen others who were also dismounting.
Mark spoke in a somewhat weary voice: "Gentlemen, it's late, you may go and rest."
