She scratched her head, dislodging a cascade of sand from her hair. The thick curls resisted her efforts to confine them in a braid, so she tied them back with a leather thong.

Her battered army was watching her, waiting for orders. No matter how gravely wounded, their heads were unbowed. If she ordered it, each and every one would fight-and most would die. Such an order was unthinkable. The preservation of the army was far more important than a fleeting gesture against the minotaurs.

She put a foot in the stirrup of Eagle Eye’s slim saddle and swung onto the griffon’s back. As she settled herself, the sea of expectant faces continued to regard her in silence.

“The army will march east, to the sea,” she announced.

Some were openly stunned. While the coastline was less harsh than the deep desert, it was also subject to the watchful eyes of the minotaur fleet. Escaping detection would be impossible. The enemy could cruise along and land troops ahead of the retreating elves at any point.

Those who had served with the Lioness in her long campaign against the Knights of Neraka were not shocked, however. They knew she wasn’t desperate or reckless, knew she must have some bold device in mind.

Quietly, she added, “I need volunteers.” Although she didn’t specify a duty, all present suddenly realized what she was about to say. The officers straightened to attention, volunteering one and all.

“I need a covering force to delay the minotaurs. To make a stand.” She gestured to a slight rise among the gnarled junipers. “There, on that knoll.”

Hytanthas Ambrodel opened his mouth, but before he could speak, she waved a hand. “No, not you, Captain. I need you for something else.”

He didn’t recognize this for the kindly falsehood it was. The Lioness’s weary face gave nothing away, but she wanted to spare the too young, too ardent captain this particular task. She had lost too many like him on this campaign.