Simus squashed the thought. Best to deal with what he knew. Better to focus on the problem at hand.
“And those that have gathered there?” Simus asked, deliberately not looking behind him at the warriors gathered out of sight of the Heart.
“What remains,” Elois grimaced. “Thirds and Fourths, and the odd Tenth. All lost since their Warlords and Seconds were within the Council tent.” Elois snorted. “And them supposed to take over command if the leaders fall.”
“Go easy,” Simus said. “They’ve never had to deal with something like this. We’ve had to face much that is new and different since dealing with Xy.”
“But nothing like this,” Elois said.
“No,” Simus agreed. “Nothing like this.” He took one last look. “Let’s return.”
They crawled back to the group of warriors waiting, kneeling and sitting in the grass. Their hunched shoulders, and anxious scanning of the skies, was telling.
Snowfall and Hanstau sat to one side. Snowfall, with his permission, was trying to contact Wild Winds. She had a small bowl of water in her hands that shimmered with her power. She met Simus’s eyes, and shook her head slightly before returning to her efforts. So, then: Wild Winds was either dead or unconscious under the debris.
Simus sat before the group, Elois on his right. “I will call this senel to order,” he said, keeping his voice low.
That brought startled heads up to glare at him.
“By what right,” one warrior growled.
“Because no one else did,” Simus said firmly. “We must make decisions, and quickly.”
There was a muttering, but no further protests.
“Tsor, my Second, has taken warriors to watch and learn about the creatures. When they return, we will mount a rescue attempt.” He looked around the group of roughly thirty warriors.
“Another?” one voice said. Simus raised an eyebrow in the speaker’s direction. “Nona, Third to Osa of the Fox,” she said. “We risk more deaths, and there may be no one to aid.” She scowled at him. “My Warlord would say save the living.”
“Mirro, Third to Loual of the Boar,” a male spoke up, his voice flat and angry. “And why would you try, Simus, when those that opposed you are dead?” Mirro’s face contorted as he spoke. “You may be the last living Warlord on the Plains, and you and Keir of the Cat would be free to—”
“I would not want to win that way,” Simus said simply. “Nor would I serve a WarKing that would take that path to power.”
Silence fell over them.
“Those are our best down there,” Simus continued. “Our Warlords, Elders, Seconds, and Token-bearers. We know not if they live, but we must try to save them.”
That brought a stir within the ranks.
“How?” challenged another. “Those creatures—”
“How is this different from an ehat hunt?” Simus flashed the warrior a tight grin. “We need musk teams to draw the monsters away, and then we send in rescuers to dig out the survivors. I think—”
There was a roar of hissing from the Heart. “Something is happening,” Simus said and crouched to go back to the edge of the rise. This time he was followed by a handful of warriors, and his people.
“Ah, no,” Elois whispered.
Simus saw that the edge of the tent was moving as someone struggled out. The wyverns had already caught the movement and were growing agitated.
“Don’t move, don’t move,” Elois whispered, but it was a hopeless plea. The warrior emerged from cover, and bolted directly for them, running with everything she had.
Simus watched in sick fascination, helpless and yet unable to look away. Two wyverns rose with single wing beats, and flew toward their prey with wide, spread wings.
The warrior was close, close enough that they could all hear her ragged breathing. The warriors behind Simus shifted, bringing out bows and crossbows, preparing for—
The nearest wyvern plunged down and hooked its claws in the warrior’s back, bearing her down to the ground. As the woman struggled, the wyvern hissed, whipped its tail around, and stung her.
Movement around Simus ceased. All knew what that meant. The outcome was inevitable, or so he had been told. Simus looked down at his hands, knotted in tight fists.
