Lieutenant Potter, in command of King’s 7th Royal Horse Regiment, or Lucky 7th Horse, was mightily annoyed. He had received commands to hold his people back and await the arrival of a person of special interest.
The person turned out to be Fleur Delacour, with a letter, royal seal and all, claiming her to be an agent of His majesty, on a special mission. The 7th Horse were being dispatched to escort her and follow her instructions.
What follows in an unconventional assignment, without uniforms or standards, a wild hunt for an object, about whose nature the agent is frustratingly tight-lipped.
Following a fierce battle, started by an ambush, with Lieutenant Potter leading his man to surprise numerically superior foes, cutting limbs, throats, cleaving skulls, stabbing through hearts, the blood splattered lieutenant watches the agent search he body of the fallen commander a take a non-descript package.
“Your men did well, Lieutenant.” Delacour’s smile is entirely too smug. “Surely a reflection on their commander. I will mention your performance to the king. Our assignment ends in the nearby city, your men shall have their rest.”
She swung herself on a horse with practised ease.
“Would you escort me to a certain wine cellar I know there?”