As the Count and his remaining Captains hashed out the details and inked the routes the enemy would most likely take, Cyrdic couldn't help but grin at Camilla outfoxing these learned, military men. The Count was not too surprised, having heard of both of Cyrdic and Camilla's exploits, but the lesser commanders and sergeants looked at her as if she was a halfling that had just refused a free lunch. However, Cyrdic's mirth would soon be gone. 

"Herr Cyrdic?" The Count asked, imploring the scarred young veteran to speak. 

"We cannot assume they'll act solely as a normal enemy. There will be plenty of Norscans, and as tough as they are, they're men." Cyrdic declared. " and they'll move as we predict. But they could have allies of the dark powers. We'll need sentries and huntsmen along the routes to warn us of any mutants or unpredictable witchery."

The Mercenary officers took it to heart, and the surviving commanders of the last ill fated expedition nodded, having seen such horrors first hand. Only the Count seemed unperturbed. "Agreed."

Count Gausser dismissed his officers, closing the map and telling his men to wait outside before he approached Camilla and Cyrdic. He wasn't the largest man, but he was stoutly built, and he nearly rivaled Cyrdic in height. He studied Camilla past his golden eyebrows, taking her measure with a steeled gaze. "I suppose you have it in mind to go onto the expedition to flank and burn the ships, ay?" He asked her. 

"Assolutamente," she said. 

"Granted." He said, and turned to Cyrdic. The Count had the look of a hard man, much like Boris Todbringer. Their Ulrican faith not withstanding, Cyrdic could see why Middeland and Nordland had always had such close ties. "You've quite the woman, soldier. Now, I'll show you to your column tomorrow so you can get acquainted with them before we move." 

Cyrdic narrowed his gaze, confused. "Sir?" He asked. 

"Sir what?" 

"You just...told us we were to go to the ships. I'm leading the expedition?" 

"No, I told the lady here she was to go to the ships. You're staying here and leading a column of the line. I need good commanders, and if the stories are true, you'll do." 

Cyrdic shook his head, giving Gausser a look he never would have thought he'd have the inclination or balls to do so back when he was an Ostland Sergeant. "With all due respect sir, but I go with Camilla." 

"No," Theodric Gausser said. His voice dropped like an anvil, sealing Cyrdic's fate and his role in the army. "And that's final. As long as you're in my outfit, you follow my orders or I'll hang you. I don't give a damn who you are. Understand?" If this were any other man, Cyrdic would simply refuse again. Both Ostlanders and Nordlanders were known for their stubborn ways. Probably to Camilla's eyes, it looked like a stern father and fierce son at odds. But after a moment, without breaking his gaze, Cyrdic simply asked. "When do we move out, sir?" 

"Tomorrow." The Count replied, and then his glanced Camilla's way for a moment. "I've a tent prepared for you both. Get a meal and get some rest. After breakfast tomorrow, we break camp and head north." Once he felt his words had hit home, the Count awaited Cyrdic's salute. He gave it, and the Count left them to retire within his own tent. 

When they were alone, Cyrdic was silent for a few moments. He didn't want to appear overly protective or overly clingy, but not having her by his side...he'd feel naked. He'd worry more about her than the battle at hand. At least tomorrow he would have time to tell her how to deal with Norscans, but... 

Cyrdic didn't meet her gaze initially. Instead he reached for his mother's necklace. The one he'd given to her. "Keep this safe, remember?" he asked her. His iron eyes lifted to look into hers. 
[@Penny]