"Sir!" I hollered, in full sprint towards the general's tent--only for him to come out at the last second and for me to run slap-bang into him and fall to the ground. The guy was a wall of muscle.
"Yes Cam?" he sneered down at me.
I chuckled and scrambled back to my feet, "I've got some urgent news, sir," I lowered my voice, "From the king."
The general nodded and took the scroll I held out. His deep green eyes darted back and forth across the parchment, his frown growing deeper with each line. Finally he looked back up at me, "Do me a favor and tell everyone to retreat to the mountains. We're under attack."
"Yes lad, I don't believe I stuttered."
"Of course sir," I sighed, bowing my head politely before heading for the town. But I couldn't help but see it as a hopless cause. These weren't ordinary peasants, they were patriots. They would take the order of retreat about as well as cat did water, immediatly leaping in the opposite direction.
Just as the enemy had planned.