[Firefoot]

Siamak had told the young soldier that he wanted the army prepared to fight by the time he was done with the commanders, but he was nevertheless surprised at how fast the word had spread throughout the large camp. Not a single horn had been sounded nor a shouted command issued, but all across the camp men were emerging from their tents, fully armed and ready for battle. Nor were they men half-asleep and irritated with the irksome hour between midnight and dawn. The same hope that had been evident in the young soldier’s face had run rampant throughout the camp.

The five captains were clearly surprised at this, and a couple cast curious looks at him, but otherwise they seemed to take this turn of events all in stride. One of them stepped aside and spoke a few words to an officer standing nearby, who then saluted smartly with a “Yessir,” and headed off. In a few moments the whole of the camp was in motion But the six of them headed through the camp, clearly going somewhere, though Siamak was not precisely sure where, and as they walked, they further developed their strategy for the taking of the city. Siamak was content to listen, knowing these men had far more battle experience than he did, and only occasionally chipped in with thoughts and ideas.

Their plan quickly took shape. On the assumption that the largest part of the Orcs would be gathered in the central square of the city, their first force under control of Adbullar and Gyges, just large enough to give battle, would attack these Orcs straight on. They would allow themselves to be overwhelmed and retreat back through the narrower streets where the Orcs would not be able to use their larger numbers to their advantage. On these streets as well would be stationed archers and small troops, under Memnon’s command, prepared to ambush the Orcs and cause confusion amongst them, preferably cutting off lines of communication. At the same time, a second force under Aysun and Iskender would have already gone around through the city in secrecy and would attack the Orcs on their rear. A delicate plan, to be sure: all depended on surprise and confusion of their enemies, and so many parts that could go wrong…

It was not until they stopped that Siamak realized that they were before the whole of the army, now nearly assembled into their ranks. Before the Captains began giving orders, Siamak put in one more word: “If possible, Khamul and the Emissary are to be captured. The Emissary’s men may be killed if need be, however, I would prefer not to have this be the start of a larger war with the foreign lord Annatar, though it may be so anyway. The important part is that Khamul is captured.” He paused for a moment. “Oh, and also: I am almost certain that there will have been some of the Avari (and maybe others as well) taken captive. If there is opportunity, a rescue attempt should be made.”

“As my lord wishes,” answered one of them with a nod. The orders that followed were a blur of divisions and names to Siamak. He did realize when one of them was about to give the order to set forth, however, and stopped him with a soft, “Wait.” The captain, the first to pledge his support, fell silent.

Siamak stepped forward, feeling the eyes of the thousands of men upon him. “Men, fellow Pashtians, tonight we begin a battle to wrest our country from a tyrant that has all but destroyed it. It is not just for your country that you fight, however; it is for yourselves, for your families, for your homes. Though it was myself and Gjeelea my sister and the High Priestess Zamara that began this revolution, it will be you that determine its outcome – your courage, your valiance, and your love. For though the foul Orcs outnumber you, they fight only because those are their orders. You, though, fight for a cause, that peace may once more reign over this once-fair land. For months you have watched as Pashtia fell deeper into the shadow of the west, unable to do anything. Now is your chance to turn the tide. The fate of everything you hold dear rests on this battle. Now is the time to fight so that when the dawn comes the red sun will rise on a new Pashtia!”

And so they set forth. They bore no torches to light their way, and even the moon had set, leaving them in total dark. How many hours before this endless night ended? Two? Three? More?

It seemed an eternity as the army trickled in through the gate. For himself, Siamak had deigned to go with the first force in the initial attack. This force set off directly through the city; Siamak highly doubted that they had achieved the gate unnoticed by all. His father would no doubt be searching for himself (and, of course, Gjeelea and Zamara), and it was difficult to move so many men in utter secrecy. And if they knew of anything, it would be best if this force were known and not the second force or the guerilla groups dispersed throughout the streets.

As they drew nearer to the square, the streets widened and their ranks broadened. They turned a final corner and the square was upon them, and the Orcs seemed to await them. Siamak had hardly time to process this information before the first clash of sword on sword rang through the air. A Pashtian horn sounded, and an Orkish horn answered it in harsh tones. Blood, red and black alike, ran in the square. The battle for Pashtia had begun.