‘Let’s go take a look,’ Sorgan growled.
The Trog commander stood looking down at the littered slope leading down to the barren desert of the Wasteland. ‘Depending on how much time we’ve got, we could use all that loose stone to build barriers that’d hold the enemy back long enough for us to build breast-works across this gap,’ he suggested.
‘Only if the enemies have to walk,’ Sorgan replied. ‘If they’re snake men like the ones we came up against in the ravine, it might work, but if they can fly over the barriers, they’ll be on top of us before we can even blink.’ He looked around. ‘Where is Longbow?’ he demanded irritably.
‘He told me this morning that he wanted to take a look at the ridge-line off to the west, Cap’n,’ Rabbit said. ‘I think he wants to make sure that the enemies can’t slip around behind us like they did back in the ravine.’
Sorgan grunted. ‘Did Red-Beard give you any kind of idea about how long it’s likely to be until the archers get here?’
‘Right after he saw the bug-bat, he took off running, Cap’n,’ Rabbit said. ‘He’s going to hurry them along.’
‘Good. We’re going to need them, I think. Swords and spears won’t be much good this time, I’m afraid.’
‘The Trogs are better at building walls and forts than we are,’ Skell told the scar-faced horseman Ekial. ‘From what I’ve heard, they’ve got walls all over down there in the Land of Trog.’
‘I thought they were called “Trogites”. Why do you shorten it down to “Trog”?’ Ekial asked.
‘It’s something my brother and I picked up from our papa. He seemed to think that “Trogite” was a term they’d invented to make themselves sound important. Papa didn’t think much of the Trogs. What they call ships are a lot like floating washtubs. That made things a lot easier for us, though, since we could chase down any Trog ship afloat in about a half a day.’
‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘So that we could rob them of the gold they’d stolen from some people off to the west.’
‘How is it that you’re both on the same side in this war then?’
‘Lady Zelana hired my cousin Sorgan to gather up a fleet and come here to the Land of Dhrall to fight a war for her.’
‘She’s Dahlaine’s sister, isn’t she?’
‘That’s what I’ve heard, yes.’
‘What’s it like spending all your time out there on the water?’ Ekial asked.
‘It’s the best kind of life there is,’ Skell told him. ‘When you’ve got a good ship and a good following wind, it’s almost the same as flying. The air’s clean, and the waves sparkle in the sun like jewels.’
‘You’re starting to sound poetic, Skell,’ Ekial said with a faint smile.
‘Life at sea tends to do that to people.’
‘What made you decide to come here to a place where you’d have to fight a war on dry land, then?’
‘Money, Ekial. Lady Zelana’s got more gold than she can even count, and cousin Sorgan brought about a hundred blocks of it to the Land of Maag to hire an army.’
‘That sounds sort of familiar,’ Ekial said. ‘Dahlaine did much the same thing when he came to Malavi to hire horsemen.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a horse,’ Skell admitted. ‘I’ve heard that they’re a lot like cows - except that they don’t have horns.’
‘There are quite a few other differences,’ Ekial said. ‘Horses love to run, and a good horse can run all day if you ask him to. The Land of Malavi doesn’t have very many trees, so it’s all grassland that goes on for hundreds of miles in every direction. In a peculiar way, I suppose we feel much the same about the meadowland as you Maags feel about the sea.’
‘Except that you don’t get wet when you fall off your horse, do you?’
‘Not very often, no.’
Then there was a sudden blinding flash of light and a shattering crash of thunder, and Veltan was there. ‘Where’s Narasan?’ he demanded.
‘The last time I saw him, he and Sorgan were looking around down there on the slope.’ Skell turned and shouted at one of the men building the breastwork. ‘You there! Go find Narasan and tell him that Veltan wants to see him!’
‘Aye, Cap’n,’ the sailor called back, running off down the slope.
‘Is something wrong?’ Ekial asked Veltan.
‘We’ve got trouble on down south,’ Veltan said tersely. ‘There’s a whole fleet of Trogite ships landing on the southern beaches, and I don’t think they’re friendly.’
Skell dispatched runners to bring most of the significant people to the gap overlooking the Wasteland, while Veltan paced back and forth muttering curses under his breath.
‘What’s this all about, Skell?’ Sorgan demanded when he arrived.
‘There’s trouble in the wind, cousin,’ Skell replied tersely.
‘What else is new and different?’
‘Don’t try to be funny, Sorgan,’ Skell snapped. ‘This is serious business. Now we’ve got two invasions to deal with instead of just one.’
‘That went by a little fast, Skell. Why don’t you give me some details?’
‘Veltan just got here, and he wants to talk to all of us. I’ll let him describe what’s happening. He saw what was going on, but I didn’t. Let’s get it right the first time, for a change.’
By the time the others had all reached Skell’s temporary camp, Veltan had managed to get his temper under control. ‘All right, gentlemen,’ he began, ‘after you’d all left to come up here, I received some very disturbing news from the south coast of my Domain, and I went on down there to have a look for myself. Evidently, there are some people down in the Trogite Empire who are very interested in the Land of Dhrall, and they’ve come here to investigate. A huge fleet of Trogite ships is anchored in the large bay between two of the peninsulas on the south coast, and the men from that fleet have occupied several coastal villages and captured almost all of the inhabitants. Most of the men from those fleets appear to be soldiers wearing red uniforms, but there are others who evidently aren’t soldiers, because they’re dressed in black robes, and they aren’t carrying weapons of any kind.’