Tom was watching the oncoming line. “You know we have to charge that line,” he said. “If we charge the line, we should buy—hmm—ten minutes or so.” He was wearing a grin that made him look like a small boy. “A hundred knights—ten thousand boglins—and trolls, and daemons, irks…” He looked at his captain. “You know we have to.” The Prior looked at Tom, and then back at the captain. “Is he always like this?” he asked. “Pretty much,” the captain said to the older man. “Will you come? I’m not at all sure any of us will come back.” The Prior shrugged. “You are lucky,” he said. “And luck is better
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