Karnic chose that moment to clear his throat and step into the room. “Your display of emotion is unbecoming, Zygor,” Karnic declared as the two men in the room turned towards the new arrival.

“Karnic?” Zygor said hesitantly. “How long have you been listening?”

Brakas frowned as he gazed at Karnic. He still held his sword defensively in front of him and continued to edge further backwards.

“Put the sword away, Brakas,” Karnic commanded in a voice that left little doubt as to his feeling of superiority. He turned to Zygor and said, “I have heard enough to determine that our operation in Fakara has failed. Vand will not be pleased.”

Zygor opened his mouth to explain, but Karnic held up his hand to stifle the excuses. “I will hear no more bickering and excuses,” he stated sternly. “What I will hear is the state of our army here in Fakara.”

Karnic turned to glare at Brakas, and the Fakaran hesitated slightly before returning his sword to its sheath.

“We have no army,” Brakas stated nervously. “The free tribes have scattered them across the breadth of Fakara.”

“He speaks the truth,” admitted Zygor. “The free tribes have aligned with the Astor. Grulak and Veltar are both dead.”

“Grulak is of no consequence,” replied Karnic, “and Veltar has been rewarded for his failure.”

“Of no consequence?” frowned Brakas. “He was the leader that a hundred thousand followed. Nobody can replace him. The army is gone.”

“Never tell me what cannot be done,” Karnic spat as he fixed his gaze on Brakas. “Grulak was a fool, but a useful one. His life brought us the Time of Calling. His death cost us nothing. We do not need a hundred thousand men to bring chaos to Khadora. The task can be accomplished with much less.”

“You plan to continue the attack on Khadora?” questioned Zygor.

“No,” smiled Karnic, “I have plans for you to conquer Khadora. My services are needed in Omunga.”