Eric's sudden use of Frankish surprised the men on the opposite bank, lessening their caution. They moved closer to the river's edge.
They saw Eric and his companions, just as the Knights saw them. Both sides quickly determined they were strangers.
Of the six men, four were older, around thirty years old, all with thick beards and wearing Chain Armor. The other two, clad in leather, were youths of fourteen or fifteen; the swords in their hands seemed as foreign to them as plow handles.
Four of the men were undoubtedly of Norman appearance, with the characteristic short hairstyle of the Normans. The other two were Armenians.
"Esteemed lords," the leader, who was also the eldest, spoke up. "You can call us rootless night ravens, wandering wild wolves, shattered travelers, lonely souls in the wasteland. Whatever you call us, we have cast aside our past. Now we are merely drifting shadows, with no one to pledge to."
