Frankia, 841- 851 AD
Frankia, 841- 851 ADThe weaving of fate reminds me of the moods of the ocean: one day flat and calm, the next erupting into towering waves capable of sweeping or submerging everything in its relentless path. My weary memory has no difficulty recalling the events of the fateful event that engulfed us sixty-three summers past.
When our small band of warrior-monks joined the count’s forces, we thought we were marching to clash with the oncoming rebels. Instead, our vanguard surprised us by veering away towards the south-west. Unsuspectingly, we had committed ourselves to a forced march of over two hundred leagues that dragged on for five weeks. Word filtered down the ranks from our leaders that we were to join forces to combat a threat to the Empire.
“We have left the
