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Vaelin pocketed the bluestone and looked out over the broad plain stretching away froloom It seemed the northern coast of the Alpiran eetation Behind hi on the beach led with the roar of the surf and the creek of countless oars as their fleet of Meldenean hirelings ferried ever more to the shoreline Despite the noise he could hear it clearly; distant thunder, out in the darkness

“Didn’t take the”

“Meldenean bastards,” Dentos hawked and spat on the sand “Never trust ‘eested “Eight hundred ships would be hard to arrison at Untesh”

“It scarcely matters how they know,” Vaelin said “What ht ahead of us Brothers, to your companies Dentos I want the archers on that rise” He turned to Janril Norin, one tiler and standard bearer “Forle to his lips and sounding the urgent call to ar places a into their ranks, twelve hundredinto neat ranks in barely five minutes, the rapid unconscious actions of professional soldiers There was little talk and no panic Most had done this many times before and the new recruits took their lead from the veterans

Vaelin waited until the i those he found with loose mail or poorly strapped helmets The Wolfrunners were the least ar the usual steel breastplate and wide-brimmed helm for mail shirts and caps of leather lined with iron plates The light armour befitted a force usually employed to pursue sh country or thick forest

Vaelin’s inspection was really Sergeant Krelnik’s job but had beco the men a chance to see their commander before the chaos started, a distraction fro bloodshed, and it spared hi speech as other commanders were apt to do He knew the men’s loyalty to hirowing reputation They didn’t love him, but he never doubted they would follow him, speech or not

He paused before a eant Gallis of the Third Coreeted him with a smart salute “Milord!”

“You need a shave, sergeant”

Gallis grinned It was an old joke, he always needed a shave “Prepare for cavalry, lanced over his shoulder, darkness still shrouded the landscape but the thunder grew ever louder “Indeed, sergeant”

“Hope they’re easier to kill than the Lonak”

“We’ll find out soon enough”

Hewith Spit, holding his reins with nervous hands and keeping as far away as possible from his infamously vicious teeth Spit snorted as Vaelin approached, allowing him to mount without the usual shudder of annoyance He was always like this before a fight, for so violence seemed to calm him Whatever his faults as an obedient mount the last four years had shown Spit to be a for his neck Spit gave a loud whinny and dragged a hoof along the sandy soil The confinee across the Erinean had been hard for him and he appeared to rejoice in the space and the promise of battle