When morning came, the field was painted black and red. Sarengerel stood by the fallen allies and rubbed his horse's mane, thanking her for protecting him. Of the twenty field riders that departed Nathamaket with him and journeyed through the ancient tunnels of the Ash Mountains, few remained. "The Field God sings their songs now," he told the survivors.

Sarengerel found Delger sitting on a dead elephant. He was covered in blood and had a bloodied bandage around his left hand.

"I may end up losing this thumb," Delger said. "My shield was nearly ripped off me."

"That is why we have two thumbs," Sarengerel said.

"I've been looking for him," Delger said. "I looked for him all night but he was not here. I've looked among the dead, and he's not here."

"Their warlord…Gnonobod."

Delger nodded. "Before sundown you stood with me at the edge of the cliff on top of the hill. How many did you see?"

"I thought then that the enemy numbered fifteen thousand," Sarengerel said. "I counted seven elephants."

"There were eight," Delger said. "All eight now litter the fields of Gan-Gaidhill. How many Isnumurti do you think were here last night?"

"No more than three or four thousand," Sarengerel said.

“Galbrey just returned from New Hearth, the city is empty,” Delger said, his eyes scanning the aftermath of the battle. “Did Gnonobod escape to the forest? Did they sneak past us toward their true goal? What did we achieve? Was this even a victory?"

“Let us walk and survey our injured, and question the prisoners,” Sarengerel said.

He helped Delger rise and fetched a bandage for the Captain’s hand.

“Hananisus, see to the hurt among us,” Sarengerel ordered.

“What of the enemy?” Hananisus asked, fetching a medicine kit from his horse.

“Tend to ours first, then the enemy.”

Delger cast a side glance at Serengerel and kept walking until they were away from the others.

“That is an uncommon practice,” Delger said. “We usually do not suffer the pains of our enemy.”

“Remove one man from the battle, and what is he? A son, a brother. A husband. A father.”

“Do you not get tormented by the faces of those who fall to you in battle?” Delger asked. “I try to keep the humanity as far apart from the violence as I can.”

“I’m tormented all the time. A lot of songs ended last night.”

They helped pull several bodies into a single line, mud and blood splattered over the dead’s faces. They lined up over a hundred, and with each one Sarengerel did his best to wipe the faces clean with a cloth.

“I don’t know if there will be anyone around to identify them,” he said.

“This one is a child,” Delger noted.

They looked at a gangly boy with long reddish brown curls that flowed freely without a helm covering his head. His eyes were partly open, the dried streak of tears visible on his muddied face. There was a big gash on his side.

“He had probably seen fourteen springs,” Sarengerel said. “Not quite a man. Our boys learn to ride into battle around this age, but they stay in the rear flanks.”

They walked toward a makeshift pen where many of the Isnumurti was bound by neck and wrists, and also tied to each other by their ankles. They were all dressed in black armor, and not a beard among any of them.

“Do you speak the common tongue?” Delger asked a few of them. They hissed back in their own language.

“How about you, do you speak it? Do you understand me?”

He got the same response from all the prisoners. One of the prisoners hissed in anger in his native tongue, spitting at Delger.

“They’re animals,” he said, spitting back.

The soldier wriggled free of his bonds and lunged at Delger, but Sarengerel stomped on the soldier’s knee, knocking him down. The soldier screamed as he writhed on the ground.

Delger had his sword half-drawn. “I believe you broke his leg.”

“Anyone caged turns into an animal,” Sarengerel said.

Delger tucked his sword away. “Your mind really turns like a page, doesn’t it? It doesn’t look like we’re going to learn anything from them. There was one, I remember, who spoke our tongue. He called himself the Pleader of Peace. He spoke for Gnonobod. Wherever this Pleader is, so will Gnonobod be.”

“This whole fight was a distraction,” Sarengerel said as he continued walking. “Such a big sacrifice, but for what? Their true prize us elsewhere.”

“There are many large cities to the east of New Hearth,” Delger said. “Caddoc. Vilholmer. The Gildemanse. The problem is that there are also many governors in between. Getting them to rally to defense is like asking old blood feuds to be settled, and for one governor to risk a man to aid another.”

“Even of the enemy washes over your country like a plague? They will not unite?”

“Unlikely. They will defend their own borders. The king has little command over the governors. We are a republic.”

“Sounds more like you are a land of many kingdoms.”

“You really are far away from Neredun,” Delger said. “Tell me, why are you even here?”

Sarengerel stopped walking. “You know the reason why. The same reason you went into the forest with Mazi. To stop the tide of the Isnumurti from washing over all our lands. They are evil, Captain Delger.”

“Yes, but even your king doesn’t believe in this war, just you,” Delger said. “You’re a general without an army.”

“Biding time, Captain. Biding time.”

As they neared the camp, they saw Delger’s horse, the brown and white spotted palfrey that once belonged to Mazi. It stood and smelled the ground of blood and death.

“Ala’kete,” Sarengerel nodded. “She did well. There was no fear in her.”

“I’ll have enough fear for both of us,” Delger said. “We can’t stay here for long. If Gnonobod moves east toward the Gildemanse, we must make haste in pursuit.”

“But you must rally the governors,” Sarengerel said.

“Aye,” it is a feat more monumental than defeating the Isnumurti. We rest but for today. We must put hoof to road in the morning.”