Captor Stories

August 1389, Aquitaine It was a hot, arid summer’s evening as Sir Giles de Grey sat in front of the open window, the hot and stuffy southern French heat drifting in. My God, does it ever rain here ? He thought. He slicked his shoulder-length dark blond hair back off his sweaty brow and took a deep drag of sweet Malmsey wine that they had brought over from England. Campaign season was coming to an end and he and his troops...