“What are they doing?” the queen demands incredulously. “What are they doing?” “We are losing,” I say. I hear the words in my own voice, but I cannot believe it, not for a moment. I cannot believe that I am here, high as an eagle, remote as a soaring gull, watching my husband’s defeat, perhaps watching my son’s death. “We are losing. Our men are running away; it is a rout. We thought we were unbeatable, but we are losing.”
