Free Forging the Sword (The Farsala Trilogy) by Hilari Bell Page B

but anything would be better than leaving them for the jackals. They had been human, whatever else they were.
    The Hrum commander might not make that mistake again, but he would make others. Jiaan had planned for it. There would be other bodies, and some of them would be Farsalan. “Yes,” Jiaan repeated. “Bury them.”
    •   •   •
    T HE FIRST PART OF the next plan was to give the Hrum time to become careless again. The exhausted Hrum army had finally made their camp in the center of a wide valley, far enough from the ridges that no arrow could reach it.
    “But we could attack them in the middle of the night,” Fasal said. “Charge in on horseback and take them while they’re tired. We have a significant advantage now.”
    “We’d also lose men,” said Jiaan. “The Suud have a saying: ‘The desert is the strongest spear.’ If we wait, the desert will do most of our work for us.”
    He could almost see the words “a deghan would attack now” flash through Fasal’s mind, but for once Fasal had the sense not to say it. Instead he stalked off to air his frustrations among the younger recruits, many of whom agreed with him.
    In one sense he was right—the Hrum were tired now. But weary as they were, they had created a defensible camp and posted many sentries.
    Their commander had the good sense to let his men rest over the next few days, allowing the lightly wounded to recover. When the Hrum marched out again they went in patrols of only a few centris, while the rest stood guard over the worst wounded and the camp. A camp that was now protected by a ditch and an earthen bank around all its perimeter, except where the stream flowed in and out.
    “We should have charged them that first night,” Fasal grumbled when he saw the new earthworks.
    “And let them hide in the bushes and hamstring our horses from behind?” Jiaan asked. “Or hadn’t you noticed how much brush there is in that camp? Enough to conceal dozens of archers, and men who could ambush attackers too.”
    He took small comfort from Fasal’s embarrassed blush, for it had taken several days for him to realize how much cover was provided by the tall, stream-side bushes that filled the Hrum camp. Instead of cutting them back, which is what Jiaan had expected them to do, the Hrum were harvesting the bushes that grew outside their perimeter. They used the branches to create screens that would further conceal their tents and the movements of their men from any archers who might creep near.
    A few quick experiments had taught Jiaan that no fire arrows would set those boughs alight. Laid in the heart of a blaze, they smoldered and smoked for an amazing amount of time before catching fire, and then burned sluggishly. When he inquired, the Suud told him that the thick-leafed branches would stay green for weeks.
    The Hrum’s brush screens, along with the clearing of the bushes outside their perimeter, made sneaking near enough to the Hrum camp to do any good almost impossible. Impossible, at least, for Jiaan’s archers. After watching the Suud trackers for the last fewweeks, Jiaan wouldn’t have bet that there was anything they couldn’t do.
    No, his best move was to allow the Hrum enough time to relax their guard and regain their arrogant confidence. So Jiaan assigned a handful of men to accompany the Suud who followed the Hrum patrols, and sent Fasal and most of his men back to their own permanent camp to rest and relax.
    He was startled two days later when Isaf, who had gone with the Suud trackers to keep an eye on the Hrum, came running back into the temporary camp.
    “Commander!” he gasped, looking around. His eyes were slitted against the brilliant light. “Where’s the—There you are, sir. The Suud sent me to get you. The Hrum have captured a Suud hunting party! They were out on a long hunt and had set up their hutches to sleep out the day. The Hrum came around a bend and ran right into them.”
    Jiaan was already donning his