"We're leaving, Jald."
The command was delivered with curt finality from the stoat commander, much to the ebon ferret's chagrin. "What?!"
"You heard me, Jald Nightson...I said we're leaving."
Jald's emerald eyes blazed in sudden rage, his lips curling to revealing the sharpened fangs as he snarled, "Are you insane?! They're still alive over that hill! We're leaving about forty or more alive!"
Deran nodded coldly, "Enough to match us...and in our present state we cannot risk that, Jald."
"You mean you can't risk it!" Jald growled angrily, resting a paw on the hilt of his broadsword, tightening his paw on the hilt as if he imagined Deran's throat in his grasp.
"You don't have that authority, Jald!" Deran snapped back at the ferret, having zero patience for his fellow commander's childish anger, "You want us to risk ourselves in an assault where we may win, but be nearly wiped out?!"
Jald growled angrily at Deran. "You're treading a thin road, Arakias..."
"I'll take that chance."
Jald cast a longing look at the sand dune, wishing to unleash his wrath on the residents of the other side. "Where are we heading then?
"To the rendezvous, Jald," Deran replied patiently as possible, "Back with the others..."
"Bah..." Jald growled angrily. "I can't believe we're just letting them live, Arakias..."
"I know your feelings on it, Jald...we're already breaking camp...we'll have another chance later, Manticore."
Jald's emerald eyes flickered with hateful resignation as he ground out, "we had better..."
Jald nodded to his second in commander, a large stoat named Kerin. "Tell the boys we're moving out, Kerin...I want us ready by dawn."
Kerin saluted with his broadsword, giving Deran a contemptuous glance as he strode off to the swordsbeasts' group.
Deran walked to his archers, the note he had received from Kalis's messenger bird had been dire indeed...it would require the full force of the Calpathions. Deran only hoped he had made the right decision...
***
Cirath was in high bad humor. Jethorin was dead, Meras captured-not that Cirath cared a whit for the ferret, but his capture rankled- and them being outnumbered and outgunned. Cirath had remained alone for most of the night, his nimble mind running over his situation. There was one good explanation for far: He was going to die.
He accepted this with first fear, then anger and finally resignation. He waved away aides and soldiers, refused to give orders. He simple sat and waited for the inevitable end, asking only one question every hour: 'What is their position?'
Then the unthinkable happened. The ferret he had appointed his second in command gave the answer, "They're leaving, sir."
Cirath doubted his ears, went so far as to rage at the lying fool, had nearly ordered his tongue cut out nefore he dared to check for himself.
Tents were being un-staked, possessions and weapons packed up, beasts grumbling in disappointment at being forced to leave, Cirath now doubted his eyes.
The stoat sank back onto the sand with a groan of relief, unable to comprehend his fortune.
"Visla...Visla has to know about this..." He whispered to himself. "We have to tell the General..."
Cirath gave the order to move an hour after the Calpathions left. He never wanted to see this accursed place again. He wanted to be as far away from this place-and those Calpathions-as possible.
The command was delivered with curt finality from the stoat commander, much to the ebon ferret's chagrin. "What?!"
"You heard me, Jald Nightson...I said we're leaving."
Jald's emerald eyes blazed in sudden rage, his lips curling to revealing the sharpened fangs as he snarled, "Are you insane?! They're still alive over that hill! We're leaving about forty or more alive!"
Deran nodded coldly, "Enough to match us...and in our present state we cannot risk that, Jald."
"You mean you can't risk it!" Jald growled angrily, resting a paw on the hilt of his broadsword, tightening his paw on the hilt as if he imagined Deran's throat in his grasp.
"You don't have that authority, Jald!" Deran snapped back at the ferret, having zero patience for his fellow commander's childish anger, "You want us to risk ourselves in an assault where we may win, but be nearly wiped out?!"
Jald growled angrily at Deran. "You're treading a thin road, Arakias..."
"I'll take that chance."
Jald cast a longing look at the sand dune, wishing to unleash his wrath on the residents of the other side. "Where are we heading then?
"To the rendezvous, Jald," Deran replied patiently as possible, "Back with the others..."
"Bah..." Jald growled angrily. "I can't believe we're just letting them live, Arakias..."
"I know your feelings on it, Jald...we're already breaking camp...we'll have another chance later, Manticore."
Jald's emerald eyes flickered with hateful resignation as he ground out, "we had better..."
Jald nodded to his second in commander, a large stoat named Kerin. "Tell the boys we're moving out, Kerin...I want us ready by dawn."
Kerin saluted with his broadsword, giving Deran a contemptuous glance as he strode off to the swordsbeasts' group.
Deran walked to his archers, the note he had received from Kalis's messenger bird had been dire indeed...it would require the full force of the Calpathions. Deran only hoped he had made the right decision...
***
Cirath was in high bad humor. Jethorin was dead, Meras captured-not that Cirath cared a whit for the ferret, but his capture rankled- and them being outnumbered and outgunned. Cirath had remained alone for most of the night, his nimble mind running over his situation. There was one good explanation for far: He was going to die.
He accepted this with first fear, then anger and finally resignation. He waved away aides and soldiers, refused to give orders. He simple sat and waited for the inevitable end, asking only one question every hour: 'What is their position?'
Then the unthinkable happened. The ferret he had appointed his second in command gave the answer, "They're leaving, sir."
Cirath doubted his ears, went so far as to rage at the lying fool, had nearly ordered his tongue cut out nefore he dared to check for himself.
Tents were being un-staked, possessions and weapons packed up, beasts grumbling in disappointment at being forced to leave, Cirath now doubted his eyes.
The stoat sank back onto the sand with a groan of relief, unable to comprehend his fortune.
"Visla...Visla has to know about this..." He whispered to himself. "We have to tell the General..."
Cirath gave the order to move an hour after the Calpathions left. He never wanted to see this accursed place again. He wanted to be as far away from this place-and those Calpathions-as possible.