The supply wagon of the Kitzakk regiment was parked several miles up Weaver Pass on a knoll overlooking the village. Five chained maidens from Weaver were tied to the rear end of the open bed. Behind the wagon the surviving Skull soldiers sat their horses in a line as a sergeant called the roll.
Dang-Ling sat among the spare weapons, blankets and saddles at the front of the wagon bed. He had recovered from his terror and was coolly assessing his situation. He was certain his warlord, Klang, would be humiliated by the defeat, and he would have to appear to also be shamed even though he felt no shame. The scouts he had sent back into the village had verified that the Barbarian had met Trang and Chornbott in combat, and that the commanders had been killed. But the champions, even though unable to conquer him, had undoubtedly taught the Barbarian the lessons of false pride and mortality. Consequently Dang-Ling was certain he had served the Master of Darkness well. Now, if the Barbarian survived his wounds and was the man the Queen of Serpents claimed he was, he would be ready, even hungry for the extraordinary opportunity she would offer him.
Dang-Ling smiled to himself, then turned to hear the sergeant’s report. There were twenty-seven present. Thirty-nine Skull soldiers, three temple guards, and two champions remained in Weaver. All dead or not, it mattered little to the priest.
Dang-Ling conducted a prayer for the deceased, then ordered the sergeant to proceed quickly up the pass and settled down for a nap.