But graver news arrives from the West. The Aedui raiders from the South, those self same men whom Belenos let slip so as to follow the King's Command, have appeared unlooked for in the river valley south of Gergouia. Conan - summoned in haste from the north, is able to skirt the enemy forces and confirm 2 Bataroi and a slinger. These are superior to the capital's garrison, but perhaps not too much so. These Aedui are not led by those of Noble Blood and may yet bypass the city, or perhaps dither and delay while awaiting orders from the North.
The High king ponders his choices. The Arverni troops at Uiennos have finished their ram and could attack, but word has already reached them of death and attrition among the defenders. Perhaps one more season of siege will reduce the risk and bring a less costly victory. Yes, Aneirin will wait. Ever his instincts have proven true. Surely they will not fail him now. But in the far reaches of his mind, a thought rises, unbidden..."Winter Aneirin! Winter is coming!"...he forces it back. Cold and chill, what of it?
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