“We should attack the little village and slay them all,” said Melharras Yushhha as his spectacularly bedecked uniform glistened in the sunlight that shone at the edge of the large cavern. The less finely dressed priest of Sakatha, Usharra Dushallama, stood a step back in the shadows and the sounds of reptile men filtered from further back in the cave.
“Our job,” said Usharra not for the first time, “is to get to the Mountains of the Orc where the dreams of Chusaursea guide us to the Staff of Sakatha. It is not to engage the Freeriders in battle.”
“Battle,” said Melharras with a sneer as his lips curled back and exposed long, sharp teeth. “They are but women and children. The scout told us that two days ago when he first encountered the little village. Their warriors wait in the flats, bicker with one another, and stink so foully that the birds refuse to nest in the trees near them. We descend on the village, take a few prisoners, then lure the men into an ambush and kill them all. It is a simple matter really,” finished the general with a nonchalant wave of his hand.
“And when the entire nation of Freeriders comes to avenge this affront?” said Usharra.
“We shall already be in the Mountains of the Orc with the Staff of Sakatha in our possession. With the staff you, no doubt, can wield enough power to defeat such simple barbarians,” said the general and smiled at the priest. “I grow weary of traveling at night and avoiding detection by these people. They are weak and need to feel the poison of our bite!”
“Moving this many warriors at night to avoid alerting the inhabitants of this land are our orders nevertheless,” said the priest with a shrug of his soldiers. “The Mountains of the Orc are but two or three more nights of travel ahead. Perhaps you can cool your fighting ardor until then. I suspect that your soldiers will find themselves with quite a bit to do once we arrive in the mountains.”
“I find your cowardice quite distasteful,” said General Melharras in a rather bored tone, “and I shall report such when we return to Darag’dal.”
“I would think your braggadocio might be lessened after watching a third of your fighting force drown off the coast last week,” said High Priest Usharra in an equally bored tone of voice.
“Warriors die,” said Melharras as he turned to face the priest. “A veteran like me knows that most of them die of disease or mishap and only the smallest percentage die in combat or of their wounds. Besides, many of them managed to swim to the other two ships so it was hardly a third of my entire force.”
“Your compassion for your fellow soldiers is admirable,” said Usharra and turned away from the general with a shake of his head.
“Your foolish sentimentality is distressing, Usharra,” said Melharras as he followed the priest and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “We are here to do a job and that is all. If men die then they die. If you die then I take command. Now that we’re off those vessels I allow you to command, but I will tolerate it for only so much longer. If I wished to kill the women and children of that town I would do so and there is nothing you can do to stop me. Have I made myself clear to you, priest?”
“I understood you from the very beginning of this operation, general,” said Usharra and brushed the hand off his shoulder with a sudden movement. “While I understand that setting aside our differences is impossible, I do think we must coordinate our ascent of the mountain. I find the dreams of the Toxic One most erratic of late and particularly unhelpful. We need to make a plan in the event we cannot immediately find the Staff of Sakatha. I have strong indications that there are others interested in the item and they will fight us for it.”
“If you find the dreams difficult to interpret then I suppose Chusarausea chooses that to be the case,” said the general with a smile that revealed his long rows of sharp teeth. He put his hand on his sword hilt, “I take it as a sign that you’ve fallen out of favor with the dragon and with the tribal elders. That being the case, I see no real reason you are of use to this expedition at all.” With that the tall reptile pulled out his sword and took a step back.
Usharra took three steps back himself, raised his hands, and began to mutter magical words when a low cough interrupted them.
The general turned towards a smallish reptile man with scales colored largely a dull gray with a few patches of black, “What do you want?”
“It’s that reconnaissance you sent out, general,” said the boy with a squeak in his voice. “They met up with some Freeriders and there was a battle.”
“What reconnaissance?” said Usharra.
The boy looked at the priest, his eyes wide and then looked back at the general but said nothing.
“Damn you Melharras, if you destroyed our chance to get the staff in order to gain some personal glory I’ll…,” he stood for a moment incapable of putting thoughts to words as the heavily armed general stood ready to strike with his sword.
“You’ll what?” said the red and purple scaled warrior, “you’ll nothing. Sound the conchs,” he said and turned to the young soldier. “We’ll kill these Freeriders and then travel during the day to the Mountains of the Orc like proud warriors, not like snakes slinking to their nest.”
The boy ran off at a gallop and the general turned to Usharra. “I should just kill you now, but my troops need me. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be gone by the time we get back from killing the Freeriders. I’d offer to bring back one of their women for you but I’m not sure that’s to your taste.” With that the general followed the boy back into the cave although the sounds of conch shells already echoed back and forth along the passage.
“By Sakatha that fool will kill us all,” said Usharra to himself. “I must gather the loyal priests and the naval crew. We need to head directly to the mountains or all is lost!”