"It ain't over yet, Swan," Blade said. "Wait. Smoke going to get his turn to cry."

The others gawked at Blade. He spoke so seldom that when he did they knew it meant something. What did he know?

Swan asked, "You see something I missed?"

Cordy snapped, "Damn it, will you calm down?"

"Why the hell should I? The whole damned world is swamped by conniving old farts like Smoke. They been screwing the rest of us since the gods started keeping time. Look at this little poof. Keeps whining about how he's got to lay low and not let the Shadowmasters find out about him. I think that means he's got no balls. That Lady... You know who she used to be? She had balls enough to face them. You give that half a think you'll realize how she laid more on the line than this old freak ever could."

"Calm down, Willow."

"Calm down, hell. It ain't right. Somebody's got to tell old farts like this to go suck rocks."

Blade grunted agreement. But Blade didn't like anyone in authority.

Swan, not as upset as he put on, noted that Blade was in position to whack the wizard if he got obnoxious.

Smoke smiled. "Swan, once upon a time all us old farts were young loudmouths like you."

Mather stepped between them. "Enough! Instead of squabbling, how about we get out of here before that mess catches up with us?" Remnants of the battle swirled around the toes of the foothills. "We can gather the garrisons from the towns north of here and collect everybody at Ghoja."

Swan agreed. Sourly. "Yeah. Maybe some of the Company made it." He glowered at Smoke.

The old man shrugged. "If some get out they can train a real army. They'd have time enough now."

"Yeah. And if the Prahbrindrah Drah and the Radisha was to get off their butts they might even line up a few real allies. Maybe come up with a wizard with a hair on his ass. One who wouldn't spend his whole life hiding out in the weeds."