Omzdog climbs atop his horse with the aid of his squires. It is early morning and the English camp begins to rustle. He rides with a companion to an elevated wooded area which over looks the Polish camp. He notices the admirable flags standing tall above tents and ramparts.
"These Poles come in numbers. There are as many banners here below in this valley of Cornwall as there is sand on the beaches."
He notices the crests of many Polish knights he's fought on the field many times, good men whom he would sit at the table with and drink vast amounts of mead with.
The companion: "The Queen has scheduled the battle to begin on this day."
"Yes, it is inevitable that our forces fight today. Its still remarkable how fast they set up camp after their beach landing."
Time passes as the men assume counts of the Poles.
"We should be taking center right with a few peasant longbows at the vanguard. Tell the men to advance on their position slowly and keep the shieldwall solid, there should be no need to break for a charge unless Her Majesty demands it. As usual, I will be in the Queen's company. Her Majesty has also set a fallback route."
Omzdog takes out a map of the area.
"We are to go through the woods and convene if it is God's will for the Polish overwhelm us here."
A while passes before a humble delegation of Polish knights stumbles into Omzdog and his companion.