“The men are ready, Sire. We know from interrogating the prisoners that the first four passed through undetected. I suggest we send in our imposters first. Graely may be suspicious, but he won’t assault them. Since they have no detectable bondmark and green eyes, he would have no justification. When they are fully in place, we will signal the attack and follow quickly with the others.”
“Excellent! And everyone will have irons available to secure a hostage?”
“Yes, Master Vindrake. And you can watch the progress of the battle through the sightstones and signal retreat when we’ve taken a hostage.”
“You’re certain we can’t fire arrows from a distance?”
“I haven’t discerned the placement of the wards, but I know Nordamen’s tactics well enough. He will have the area protected from arrows. Of course, he cannot ward against arrows from within the canyon without inhibiting his own warriors.”
“The plan is sound,” Vindrake said.
“What shall I do with the prisoners, Sire?”
“I think these three will make excellent wendts. We shall send them ahead of the second group to wreak havoc. There is nothing like seeing one of your comrades torn to pieces to strike terror into the bravest of hearts.” The power required to create three wendts would be quite draining. But his position of observation and direction from a distant point would keep him safe from harm until he regained his strength. No one would discern his weakness. An afterthought occurred. “Will the bloodbond still protect our men from the wendts after taking the masking potion?”
Abaddon cocked his head. “Of that, I am uncertain, Sire.”
“No matter. Those men are the least gifted. They are expendable.”
*****
Uncle Charles murmured to Alora, “It’s interesting, the people here have a variety of skin tones and hair color, but their eyes are all the same emerald green color.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure how that happens.” She studied the Stone Clan warriors shifting restlessly in the assigned positions along the narrow canyon walls. Nordamen joined Alora’s group under the protective overhang, high on the canyon wall. She whispered to her uncle, “Don’t you think he looks like an elf, Uncle Charles? Like the ones in The Lord of the Rings movie?”
He hid a laugh, turning it into a cough. “Now that you mention it, yes. But I don’t think he’d appreciate the comparison.”
“I’m guessing he wouldn’t even know what I was talking about. They don’t have TV or movies here.”
“So what does he do? He doesn’t look like a fighter. Is he a general or something?”
“I’m not sure, but I think he does some kind of magic.”
Nordamen must have overheard her last comment, because he moved to stand beside Alora. “Since you seem to be curious, I’ll tell you my gift is in manipulating the elements, but I’m also in charge of training and overseeing all the other gifts in the clan. Today, I’ve prepared us by warding the area from distant arrows and magickal attack. Vindrake usually employs a number of shamans, so I will be attempting to fend off their attacks. But my most important job now involves you, Alora.”
“What is that?” She heard her heart pounding in her ears.
“When you sense Vindrake’s men, I will speak on the wind so every fighter can hear me at once. I will let them know when the attack is imminent and who is dangerous. Since the attack is delayed, everyone is beginning to tire of waiting on guard. Together, we can warn them so they won’t be surprised.”
“Well, you can tell them something awful is coming down the road right now.” She peered around the rock. “I can’t see them yet, but there’s an overwhelming sense of evil.”
Nordamen nodded and passed on the information. As he spoke softly, Alora heard his voice in her head. It was a strange sensation and made her want to scratch the inside of her ears. But she noted everyone she could see immediately came to attention, tensing with anticipation.
“Morvaen has already worked out hand signals and whistles to command the archers and other fighters,” Nordamen continued, but he stopped speaking when six men rode into view. They appeared calm and unthreatening, though they were well armed. Continuing at a slow pace until they were directly under Graely, one man appeared to accidentally drop something on the ground. He exclaimed and the group stopped, while the man slipped off his horse to retrieve the item.
“This is just a ploy,” whispered Alora. “What are we waiting for?”
“Patience, Alora,” said Nordamen. “Morvaen is in charge.”
Alora felt Raelene’s tense presence behind her as she crouched between Nordamen and her uncle, peering over the rocks.
“That man on the ground has got a necklace just like yours,” Alora commented softly to Nordamen. “What does that mean?”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s a sightstone. It undoubtedly means Vindrake is watching through his eyes. He has the gift of farsight, among other gifts.”
“I think it’s no accident the group stopped in front of Graely.” Raelene placed a hand on Alora’s shoulder. “Be prepared to transport him up here if the need arises.”
But Alora was thinking Kaevin would be in as much danger as his father. Suddenly she felt overwhelming nausea. “Something’s coming! Something bad!” She pointed her finger. “There! Over the trees! And also from behind us.”