The army came after them, their morale high. They hooted as they went, trampling men that were far stronger than they were, riding the wave that their leaders had built.
Any blows that strayed off course were parried by the purple fire that Penelope had enchanted their swords with. The force had become something far more than it ought to have been. They were just particularly well-trained raiders, with no Blessings to them, and yet they were able to stand up to an Earl's army.
Soon enough, Earl Maddon was forced to send another one of his noblemen towards the centre. In fact, he'd sent two, the second riding so closely behind the first that they might have been the same person. Even when they split apart, they looked identical. From the style of their armour, to the colour of their capes, and the plumes on their helmets.