"You have our sincerest sympathies."

Bryck made as if to speak, but no words came. His journey here had been a waste indeed. Three days and two nights, only to find this pack of moronic provincials playing at government. He had been quite correct, then, earlier when he imagined this group as players in a political farce. What could their scouts know that U'delph's did not? His city, he'd been told as he set out, had six days of safety left. It simply wasn't possible that the Felk armies had advanced so rapidly. It was ... nonsense.

He swallowed whatever pointless words he'd meant to utter, turned once more, and left the chamber.

Outside, in the courtyard, he called for his grey mount. It was eventually retrieved by the deaf lad with the wispy red beard. Evening had become night by the time Bryck rode out past Sook's limits, ignoring everyone and everything as he kicked the horse into a faster and faster stride. Its powerful hooves were soon tearing up patches of sod, as Bryck made for home.

DARDAS (1)

ONE NEVER REALLY appreciated being alive until one had been dead ... at least once.

It was not the first time this thought had run through Dardas's mind, and would probably not be the last, but he found it inescapable as he stood outside his command pavilion staring out over the ant-like activity of the Felk army bivouac. To all outward appearances, he was observing the efficiency of his officers and their troops as they prepared for evening mess.

Well, on one level, he was, though he had seen it all thousands of times before. Annies didn't change much over the centuries, except for the uniforms and the effectiveness of the weapons. He could monitor the movement and mood of the troops without really focusing on them, his attention only drawn to any abnormality or break in the rhythm. What he was really doing was enjoying the sunset.