They carried on for another five or so minutes, by that point the woods had swallowed them up entirely. Neither feared threading through the wilds, but it was humbling to realise that the little more than thin filaments of light filtered in through the canopy of leaves.
“What do you know about your governess?” Bertrand asked.
“Death walks in her shadow,” Marc replied.
Bertrand’s head snapped back, which could have easily been explained away by studying himself on his mount. However, Marc knew better, there were few who could rival his abilities as a horseman.
“Your mother didn’t raise a fool,” Bertrand replied. “How did you find out?”
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.