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ASEGGAS BURST FROM THE TENT, his stride filled with a new confidence. He grabbed the rope from Uzemzum and powered ahead without saying a word. Dragged forward, Thami shuffled his feet and hurried after the strutting Aseggas. Behind them, Uzemzum huffed as he tried to keep pace.

Thami sucked in a deep breath, trying to still the swarm of hornets buzzing through his veins. With each step, he urged himself to fight the panic that gripped him.

Don’t give into your fear, he thought.

Step.

Keep your wits about you.

Step.

These may be the last minutes of your life.

Step.

Make them count.

Fueled by surprising determination, Thami slowly nudged his concentration away from his inner turmoil and toward the raucous activity of the enemy camp. He’d been right in his assessment that there were far more Tutrumese here than Zahir had been led to believe. Tent after tent filled the valley, and interspersed amongst the tents were campfires surrounded by soldiers.

From what Thami could gather, the soldiers were divided into different groups. Most were spearmen, lanky and youthful and with little to no armor. But every so often, the group gathered around a fire was more grizzled. Older warriors with black leather armor and beaded hair like Aseggas. And one camp Thami passed was vastly different from the others. The fire was lower, and the small group of four soldiers was notably silent. Their heads, like Izwilen’s, were all shaved to the scalp. Rich jewelry adorned their ears, and sparkling metal pieces covered strategic parts of their armor. Beside each of these soldiers, a long-limbed hound sat or lay on the valley floor, the color of their coats blending in with the sand.

Something about these warriors and their silent canine companions shook Thami the most. All the other groups had ignored Aseggas, his trainee, and their prisoner as they snaked through the camp. But these four soldiers, as well as their dogs, all turned and watched with grim frowns and malice-filled eyes as Thami shuffled by.

The dour group sent a chill up his neck, as if somehow their presence made his situation even worse. But Aseggas pulled Thami past the soldiers without comment or incident and continued through the camp, only coming to a stop when they neared a roaring fire close to the cliff wall. A group of six young spearmen, gourds in their hands and the glaze of alcohol in their eyes, jumped up as Aseggas stepped into their circle.

“Aye, that’s right,” Aseggas said. “Time to leave.”

“What?” the tallest spearman said. “Why should we leave, Grandfather? There’s room enough for you here. Not that we want you here, though. If anyone should leave, it’s you. Maybe find that dung pile you crawled out of.”

Aseggas said nothing. Instead, he turned to Uzemzum and passed him Thami’s leash. Then, to Thami’s surprise and dismay, Aseggas spun faster than a lightning bolt and drew Thami’s sword. In a heartbeat, his glistening weapon was pressed against the tall spearman’s neck.

“You, you Pugulian filth. You disgust me,” Aseggas hissed. “Do you see the beads in my hair, little bitch? Can you count them? Or are you too stupid?”

The spearman pursed his lips and nodded slightly, being careful not to cut his throat.

“Tell me then. What do they mean, little bitch?”

“A…a bead for every…every man you’ve killed,” the spearman whispered, his eyes stretched wide with concern.

“Well, then, if you and your friends here don’t want to add six beads to my braids, I suggest you leave. On orders of the Chief.” Aseggas paused and rolled his head around his shoulders. “And because I say so.”

Aseggas pulled his sword off the spearman’s neck, stepped to the center of the group, and swung his gaze around the circle of spearman. They had all lowered their spears toward him…but had also taken several steps back. Grinning, Aseggas sheathed his sword. “Did you hear me, you pissants? Find another fire to sit around and gripe like old maids who can’t find a man to bed them. Go on. Get out of here!”

Begrudgingly, the spearmen looked at each and nodded. Then they slunk away from the fire. Aseggas shook his head and was about to turn back to Thami and Uzemzum when one of the spearmen said, “We should’ve stuck a spear up that Ass-a-ghar-i-an. Stuck him like the pig he is.”

Aseggas roared. “What did you say?”

In unison, the spearmen turned, their weapons raised and aimed at Aseggas. Apparently, distance and drink had made them bolder. “I said you were lucky we didn’t skewer you like a pig, Grandpa. We let you have the campfire, but don’t push it. We’re sick of the likes of you. Always talking so tough and pushing us around. But if you have more to say, come closer, and I’ll make my point clearer.” Then the spearman lowered his spear to his hips and thrust it lewdly in Aseggas’s direction.

Aseggas growled and waved his hand dismissively. He turned his back on the spearman and took a seat on the nearest rock.

“That’s what I thought, dung worm,” the spearman said. He and his companions laughed as they turned away and headed toward a neighboring fire, where another group of spearmen had gathered.

Thami focused on Aseggas. The weathered warrior may have sat down, but his face was twisted with rage. His hands were balled into fists. And, after a minute of staring intensely into the flames, he slowly twisted his head and checked on the departing spearman. They, though, were already laughing with their new companions, no longer concerned with Aseggas. He nodded, and his lips fluttered as he calculated something to himself. “Eleven,” he finally mumbled to the night air.

Then he jumped to his feet. “Wait here, Uz. No matter what, do not interfere, or I’ll send my blade through your skinny neck, too. You need to make sure nothing happens to our prisoner. Treat him like gold. Understood?”

Uzemzum nodded. “Right. Like gold. But where are you going?”

Aseggas squeezed his eyes into slits. “Do not interfere, Uzemzum.” He held his gaze on Uzemzum for a moment until he nodded. With that, Aseggas rose into a crouch and disappeared into the shadows, heading in the opposite direction of the spearmen.

Thami glanced back to the spearmen who had raised Aseggas’s ire and quickly counted. Eleven soldiers laughed and jostled with each other. Understanding Aseggas’s intentions, Thami looked back to Uzemzum, who still had his gaze locked on the spearmen. He opened his mouth and started to stand but quickly changed his mind.

“No,” Uzemzum muttered while pulling on the skin of his throat and sitting again. “They’re not my problem. They’re on their own.”