jurpavlik

 The moonlight shone down upon the fields, its silvery rays broken by flickering torchlight as groups of searchers spread through the darkness. Two men came upon a stone bridge that crossed a stream and paused as they heard splashes approaching them. “It's them.” one of them, a balding middle-aged an said urgently as he tugged on the sleeve of his companion. “I know it's them.” the second man said tersely as he raised his torch with a hand on his sword hilt. “Who else would it be?” “The Teutons?” the balding man replied apprehensively. Neither said anything as the splashes grew closer and a