Melody was surprised and, to be honest, a bit disappointed to learn that only 3 of the Sedents had volunteered to make the trek to the Capital with Clan Yalla. She had dismissed the idea of selling the attack's survivors into slavery, of course, but still she would have preferred to have a more realistic number of barbarians to present at the slave market.

Scouts were sent north from the still smoking remnants of Kengetar's village to look for other tribal dangers, and an hour later, the caravan began to pull out; half of the mounted warriors led the procession; behind them were a half of the footbound warriors; then came the women, children, injured, and aged (some on foot, some on wagons or carts); and taking the rear were the rest of the warriors on foot.

Melody had explained to Kengatar that, as was the custom for slaves on the way to market, he and his two volunteers would be on foot, surrounded by the first Company of warriors on foot. "You will have bindings on your wrists but not your feet, and those bindings will be loose ... to allow you to discard them if we come into danger. Kengetar, it is important to me that you appear to be a captive and yet know without doubt that you are not!"

The last thing Melody did before she mounted her horse was have her servant, Haanya, sling a worn, dirty cape around Kengetar's shoulders and tie the leather thong under his chin. Melody explained, "I know you are accustomed to the weather of your own land and likely don't need this..."

Then, stepping closer, Melody gestured to Broon for a Sedent dagger and slipped it into the bound waist band of Kengetar's loincloth. She suddenly felt her face blushing and turned her head in the hopes of preventing him from seeing it; Melody had had a sudden recollection of the barbarian's impressive manhood from the night before, and knowing that it was well within her easy reach should she decide to partake of it caused her no end of frustration and embarrassment.

"The cape is to hide this," she explained, no longer facing Kengetar as she moved to her horse. She didn't look to him again until she thought she'd gain control of her complexion, telling him, "My Kapiten things arming you is a grave error. I am hoping otherwise."

She was about to turn to get the procession moving when suddenly there was a great deal of excitement coming from the direction of the Sedents who were remaining behind. As she watched, a group of hurrying survivors with bags over their shoulders or in their arms hurried toward Melody; they included three women, one older but seemingly spry male, and a teenage boy and similarly aged girl.

They were calling out in a combination of their own Dialect and Common, and Melody very quickly deduced that they intended to join and support Kengetar, who Melody was coming to understand had made quite an impression on the tribe with his heroic sacrifice. When the group got closer, Melody realized that one of the women was the one who'd drawn blood from her bosom with a knife earlier this morning. She make eye contact with the woman, smiled, and made a familiar gesture of welcome before asking, "Why have you chosen to accompany us?"

The woman pulled the top flap of her backpack open just enough to reveal the blade that could very well have killed Melody the night before and explained in her broken Common, "No seek revenge if not with you." Melody's smile widened; the woman donned the pack and added before joining the other Sedents, "If seek revenge."

Melody gave the woman a respectful nod, looked about herself for sign that they were ready to set out, and gave Broon a familiar look. The Captain called out loudly, "North!"

And with that, the caravan was underway...

Just short of noon:

The procession followed a trail in a northeasterly direction throughout the morning; it might have been a road once upon a time, but in many places Mother Nature had done it damage with the runoff of rain, the growth of plant life, and the falling of trees. Often the procession had to be halted to clear the way or aid the carts over collapsed, uneven, or simply rough ground.

At times, Melody had contemplated turning back to the road that had taken her to Kengetar's village; it was entirely suitable for the carts and much easier for those on foot. But that direction would have added another five or six days to the mission to the Capital.

Just before high sun, though, the scouts backtracked to inform their Lady that a very recent, rain-driven landslide had obliterated the road entirely; there would be no going this way with the wheeled vehicles. Melody ordered camp struck for the night and scouts sent out to look for dangers. She told Broon to raise only four of the many tents: hers for herself and the Sedent women and children, a smaller one for the Sedent men, a similarly sized one for Broon himself and his Yallan Juniors, and -- because the sky was threatening to pour more rain upon them -- a fourth one, just a lean-to, for setting up a kitchen for the group as a whole.

Kengetar left the two boys with the others of his tribe. He was glad that he wouldn't have to take care of them himself. However, two of the stragglers who came along was Elbara, and... her husband, Tomor. He hoped this wasn't going to make anything difficult. He was also annoyed by the sudden stop the caravan had made. There was still many hours of daylight left, but this small roadblock was able to stop them completely.

Kengetar slipped off his wrist bindings, gave a notice to Tomor, the elder male, and walked off, determined to find some drier ground. He knew that this was potentially the territory of enemies, but Kengetar was well trained in stealth. Keeping himself low to the ground and stepping lightly, he was sure that he would be able to notice someone else well before they noticed him.

The little clearing in which they pitched camp was barely large enough for the four tents and a central fire pit; the carts were left in a line on the trail they'd traveled, and those not assigned to a tent used the limbs of the trees of the surrounding forest to erect simple lean-tos out of their tent covers. Broon approached Melody after the tents were erected to inform her that sentries had been posted and scouts had been dispatched.

"And Kengetar?" she asked, knowing that her Captain was sensitive about the barbarian having not only so much freedom but a weapon as well.

"He slipped off into the forest a few minutes ago," he said, showing no more concern that he already had been. "I believe he is looking for a way around the slide."

"Or making contact with some Sedent relatives who will sneak out of the trees in the night to slice our throats?" Melody asked wryly, raising a questioning eyebrow. When the officer only stared at his Lady, she told him, "Feel free to keep an eye on the Sedents, Kapiten. But you are forbidden to take any action against them without my expressed permission. Do you understand? You are primed to not trust Kengetar, and I do not want that to lead to a misunderstanding that will deny me my revenge."

"Yes, m'lady," Broon said, saluting before being dismissed.

Melody's Captain hadn't been the only Yallan keeping a close eye on Kengetar, though, the reason for this person's attention had nothing to do with whether or not the man might want to slip away or slit a throat. Frandy had done her part in setting up her Lady's tent before telling the more senior tent slave that she needed to tend to her Moonblood issues. Haanya gave the younger servant a confused look; the two women worked so closely together that Haanya knew almost to the day when Frandy was next expected to bleed, and today was most definitely not that day. Still, she said only, "Hurry back. There is still midday meal to prepare."

Frandy milled about the spontaneously erected camp, searching for the barbarian with the impressive manhood, only to learn from overhearing her Lady and the Captain's conversation that the man had slipped off into the woods to scout ... or run? She hurried back to the first cart, the last place anyone talking about Kengetar had seen him. Acting as if she was only searching the cart for goods until no one was looking her way, Frandy suddenly turned and sprinted into the undergrowth. She hesitated to look for prying eyes, saw none, and hurried off into the forest, following a deer trail she hoped would get her to the man who made her so warm and tingly in all the right places.

Kengetar was already on his way back. He had found a small trail that was relatively dry, and rejoined with the main footpath after not too much distance. True, it was too small for the carts, but with a day's work, the undergrowth on the sides of the trail could be cleared away and there would be enough space for the carts to role by. And it was also true that he had been forced to avoid a pair of Roki Tribe hunters, but he seriously doubted that the caravan as a united force would be under threat. Of course, with the threatening rain, it was only a guess if it would still be usable after today. This wouldn't even be an issue if we were using boats, thought Kengetar.

Suddenly, he heard a scream that was quickly cut off, from a direction that was nearer to camp. Concerned, he crept towards the source of the sound. The source of the sound came into view in a clearing just off the trail. It was the two Roki hunters from before, and they were evidently pleased with their catch. In their arms they held their struggling captive, which Kengetar recognized as the young servant belonging to the caravan's leader. He didn't know what had possessed her to go out into the forest alone, but it was a stupid decision. No tribe in the South was as dangerous as the Sedents, but anyone found out alone in the wilderness was fair game. The girl would likely be sold to slavers traveling North, if she was lucky.

Kengetar crept closer, unnoticed even as he drew close enough to the back of one hunter to touch him and drew his knife. Almost casually, he stepped into the clearing and slipped his knife between the ribs of the hunter. As the hunter fell, Kengetar threw back his cape, flashing his predatory grin and tribe-identifying tattoos.

"Boo," he said quietly.

The other hunter backed off and began to run, nearly dropping his bow, the girl and his fallen comrade forgotten. Kengetar didn't chase him. He doubted that his knife would be any match against his bow, but if he acted confident, the hunter might be convinced that there were other Sedents hidden nearby, and wouldn't stop running until he was halfway back to his tribe.

He then turned his attention to the servant girl lying where she had been dropped by the hunters. Not seeing any obvious injuries on her, he picked her up and asked, "Why did you come out here alone? Don't you know it's dangerous?"

"Melody sent me to find you," she lied, thinking fast. "She says you have to come back."

"Who's Melody?" Kengetar queried.

"My mistress," she said. "I'm Frandy, by the way. Thank you for rescuing me." She pressed her head and arms into Kengetar's muscular chest in a way that was a bit too sensual to be merely appreciative.

Kengetar sighed. Evidently there was some trust that Melody had withheld from him. But the softness of Yallans was quickly becoming apparent, and aggravating. He picked up the fallen hunter's bow, quiver, and knife. No sense in letting them go to waste, after all. Frandy was going to be a problem, though. Her uncareful steps could easily lead more unwelcome guests to them, and that would be a death sentence. There was simply no helping it, unless...

Frandy yelped as Kengetar roughly lifted her and slung her over his shoulders, and gripped her arms and legs like she was a slain deer. "Don't talk until we're back at camp," Kengetar said, and took off jogging down the trail.

When Kengetar got back to camp and planted Frandy back on the ground, it was already beginning to drizzle. She stood looking embarrassed for a while, then said, "Mistress is in the women's tent, I have to cook the midday meal, thankyougoodbye," then ran off to the cooking tent. Kengetar shrugged, then went to the women's tent and impatiently rapped on the flap.

Earlier:

Frandy got excited when she thought she caught sight of Kengetar moving through the shadows of the thick woods ahead of her. She called out softly at first, then louder: "Kengetar...? Kengatar! It is me ... Frandy ... come to be of service to you."

By that, of course, the young and rather promiscuous slave girl meant sexual service. It meant nothing to her that she'd only met the man yesterday; it meant nothing to her that he was, by Yallan definition, a barbarian. Frandy simply wanted to pull her dress up and Kengetar's loin cloth off and find some escape from her dull life of service.

That wasn't going to happen, though. She was suddenly screaming out in surprise, then fear, as she was grasped about her torso by powerful hands. In just seconds, the man she'd assumed was Kengetar emerged from the woods, and Frandy got her first look at a new sort of barbarian.

The Roki were not the Sedent; Frandy knew that in an instance from their clothes, their tattoos, and their treatment of her. The Sedent -- even after the Yallans had destroyed their village and killed many of their people -- had not raised a hand against their attackers/captors, despite their reputation for being barbarous people. Frandy couldn't know whether or not the tales of them had been stretched; she couldn't know whether or not they were biding their time, waiting for the right time to attack, to kill all the Yallans, to eat them from the inside out like so many tales from the civilized world seem to portray them.

But these barbarians, they frightened Frandy to no end. She screamed out in terror as one arm and hand grasped her painfully about her belly and the other arm and hand held her higher, with grasping fingers digging into her tit in a way no man had before this. She continued screaming out in terror, knowing that she was about to be raped, beaten, raped, killed, raped, and finally eaten.

And then, suddenly, it was over: Kengetar was there. Frandy didn't see her barbarian kill the first Roki, and she was too deep in shock to really understand that the other ferocious animal had simply ran away in fear. Later, when she recalled of the moment, she thought she remembered Kengetar saying "Boo!" But ... no, that was ridiculous, right? Did he really frighten away a barbarian rapist with a word from a mother-infant peekaboo game?

When she realized that it was over, Frandy set her eyes on her savior and tried to smile in joy, though, honestly, she wasn't entirely sure whether or not the expression had actually manifested.

He asked her, "Why did you come out here alone? Don't you know it's dangerous?"

Frandy didn't immediately recognize that she was being chastised for her dangerous silliness. She was about to confess that she'd come into the woods to find him ... to flirt with him ... to seduce him. Then, she realized that she was being dressed down for her ignorance of how dangerous these lands could be.

She lied to him instead: "Melody sent me to find you. She says you have to come back."

Frandy had no idea that after a full day of interactions, Kengetar would not have heard her Lady's name or even used it on occasion. But, when she'd recall this moment, Frandy would realize that the actual name Melody was only rarely is ever spoken. Melody was m'lady; that was what people of all natures called her.

She explained who Melody was an introduced herself, and a moment later Kengetar was helping her to her feet. She smiled, once again near to the man who had previously been naked and oh-so-impressively-so the last time they were this close. A chill of sexual excitement ran up her spine, and she was in the process of considering what words to use to tell the barbarian that he could have her, here and now and repeatedly ... when suddenly she was over his shoulder and being carried out of the forest.

"Don't talk until we're back at camp," Kengetar said as he headed down the trail.

Frandy understood immediately that this wasn't part of some mating ritual; the barbarian was doing the least barbaric thing she could imagine, taking her home, untouched and still fully dressed. How disappointing; and what more, how embarrassing. Before she knew it, Frandy was on her feet again at the edge of the camp ... and after telling Kengetar where m'lady could be found, once again all alone.

She watched the object of her sexual fantasies hurry off toward Melody's tent, where he rapped on the tarp covered wooden frame, waited, then entered. In her now-dark fantasies, she imagined her Mistress laying there on her soft, thick bedding in a practically see through silk gown, lifting it for the convenience of the barbarian who had already stripped off his loin cloth and was hurrying forward to find his joy.

In reality, Melody was sitting with Broon, his Juniors, and Groya, the Elder who typically spoke for the non-military men and the women and children of the tribe in times of concern. The group had been near the end of their meeting as it happened, and after Melody dismissed them, she looked up to Kengetar and asked in a somewhat unenthusiastic, almost bothered tone, "What can I do for you?"

Melody had many things on her mind and, of course, she hadn't asked for the Sedent's presence after all,

Kengetar snorted. How was she going to act bothered when she had called him? "It's unwise to send your servants to leash me while I'm solving your problems," he said accusatorily. "She almost died, by the way. You're welcome for that, too."

Melody had no idea as to what Kengetar was speaking, of course, and she didn't particularly enjoy his tone. If he had been one of her people and had talked to her like that, she would have called Broon in to have the man strung up for lashing, castrating, or worse.

Instead, she stood to face him, saying, "First ... I did not send for you ... leash or otherwise. Second, I appreciate that you saved the life of one of my servants, which ever one it was."

Melody actually had an idea that Kengetar was speaking about Frandy. The girl was promiscuous and indiscriminate about who man she allowed inside her ... or even if it was a man who was involved in her search for sexual satisfaction. As she began a slow walk toward the barbarian, Melody called out, "Kapiten!"

In a flash, the ever dutiful Broon was inside the tent, saluting and saying as usual, "Yes, m'lady."

Melody didn't address him but instead simply moved up close to Kengatar and growled in barely above a whisper, "And third ... if you ever speak to me in that manner again ... I'll have your balls cut off ... stewed ... and fed to your people ... before I have them executed as well."

She gave Kengetar a moment to respond, unsure whether that response would be words or the sinking of his dagger into her chest. Presuming he didn't kill her or simply excuse himself from her tent and from her duty, Melody would ask him to explain himself.

Kengetar's blood was now running hot, and consequences were far from his mind. Moments like this were of his major faults, where the frustrations of days past would explode out at whoever he felt was the last to aggrieve him.

"Nice bluff, but you won't," he shot back. "All this time you've been playing at the conquering warlord, but all you Yallans are soft." Without stopping for a breath, he shot into another insult. "There's no explanation for your victories but luck, since none of you have the skill or courage to do things by yourself. And we Sedents don't threaten a man's family when we have a grudge. We take them head on, because we're not afraid of a fight."

Kengetar seethed, waiting for a response, whether it be a volley of angry words or a physical attack. He was doubly armed now, and felt confident.

Melody's heart was pounding by the time Kengetar finished. Was it anger or fear or a combination of both? At the same time, though, she was feeling a third emotion: regret.

She looked to Broon, who by now had his second hand wrapped about the handle of his sword and the weapon pulled out of its sheath just enough to loose it from the tension that prevented it from falling out in the case of a fall or other disorienting situation. She asked and -- when the man didn't move -- repeated, "Kapiten, will you excuse us?"

As the reluctant officer turned and unhurriedly departed -- moving only barely out of the tent and keeping a crack in the flap's opening to watch the happenings inside the tent -- Melody turned and paced about slowly a moment, considering her response. In a much softer voice than before, she said, "It was not a bluff, Kengetar. I am not playing at conquering warlord ... for two reasons. First, I have made no attempts to conquer anything in Sedent territory.

"The incident yesterday ... it was tragic and regretful. If I had been with the party that initially rode to the camp to speak with your leaders, the massacre -- and yes, I admit, it was a massacre, a regretful massacre on the part of my people -- if I had been present, it would not have happened.

"I made a mistake in not preventing my force from attacking you," she continued, her tone sincere. "I ... I reacted spontaneously; my people were attacked, so ... I returned the favor. I spoke with a Sedent woman today, a woman I believe you know ... Elbara. She says she was within earshot of the exchange between your people and mine. She says each side said some things that were ... inciting. She claims the fight was the fault of the Sedent, but ... I think she believed that was what I wanted to hear. I must admit this: I sent the wrong men to speak with your Chief ... and people died."

She hesitated a moment, then addressed more of what Kengetar had said. "Yallans may not be Sedents, but they are soft. I have no way to prove this to you at the moment other than to put one of my warriors in the Fighting Circle opposite yours. I won't do that ... not here, not now." Her lips spread a bit before she added, "Maybe after the Capital."

She began walking back toward the man again, addressing one last point that she felt had to be made. "You are my guest, Kengetar ... you and your people ... not hostages or slaves or prisoners of war. And I will treat you like guests, as opposed to the other possibilities."

Now, close to him and looking up into his pale grey eyes, she said in a low but firm tone, "But I am the leader of Clan Yalla. My people look to me for guidance, support, and -- when the time calls for it -- courageous and unflinching leadership onto the battlefield. They will not follow me if they think I am weak ... and you, here tonight, chastising me with my Clan's most important officers and Elders within ear shot simply cannot happen again ... whether I am right or whether I am wrong makes no matter. If you cannot show me the respect in front of the others that those others show me..."

She hesitated again, stepped back, and swept a hand toward the tent's exit, finishing, "...then I regretfully ask you to return to your people ... and to your village. I will seek my revenge on my own. I will die in doing so, of course. But in contrast to how you may think of me ... I'm not afraid of a fight."

"You're not afraid of a fight?" Kengetar sucked in a breath. There was no turning back. "Then prove it." He clenched his fists, ready for the hit that was sure to come.

"You're not afraid of a fight?" Kengetar asked.

Melody stared down the man for a moment, unsure of where he was taking this.

"Then prove it," he added, clenching his fists.

The Yallan smiled at the Sedent, then chuckled. "You must be joking."

But it was obvious that Kengetar was dead serious. Still with her eyes on him, Melody tilted her head toward the tent flap, knowing that Broon was just outside and likely already crouched and ready to attack to protect his Lady. "You will not enter this tent under any circumstances, Kapiten. Is that understood?"

The flap opened a bit more and the confused voice of Broon asked, "M'lady...? Are you sure? What are--"

"Is that understood, Kapiten?" Melody repeated as she reached to her waist to unbuckle the belt that held her coin purse and, particularly, her dagger's sheath. She looked her Captain in the eye and stressed again, "Is that understood?"

Broon was on the verge of disobeying Melody for the first time since he'd first been assigned to her in her late single digits ages. The little girl had wanted to peruse the stands in the marketplace of a town famous for kidnappings of girls of all Classes, and to prevent this, Broon had given her the same treatment Kengetar had given Frandy earlier. But after looking to the Sedent to see if he, too, was discarding his weapon as Melody had just done, he saluted his Lady and said before closing the flap, "I am your servant, m'lady. But, if he scars you, it will be my honor to do the same and more to him once this ... idiocy is concluded."

Melody waved him away, looked to Kengetar, and raised her own clenched fists as she took a single step closer. Smiling wide, she asked with humor, "You're not afraid of getting your ass kicked by a girl are you ... barbarian?"

Kengetar dropped his cape, bow, quiver, and knives to the floor, and stepped forward. "You're going to wish you had your bodyguard," he said, grinning. He raised his fists, and waited for the first blow. When none came, he threw a false jab at her face with his left arm to gauge her reaction. She dodged, but there was no follow-up. Emboldened, he threw another false jab to the face with his left, then used his right to throw an uppercut punch to her toned stomach.

As she watched Kengetar shed his gear, Melody suddenly realized that her heart was pounding. When was the last time she'd been in a Luftë me grushta ... a fist fight? And with a man, no less!

"You're going to wish you had your bodyguard," he taunted her, raising his fists again.

Melody loosened her body a bit, shifted her feet, inched just a tab bit forward as her head and upper torso tensed up. Kengetar threw the first punch, to which Melody nimbly avoided. She smiled wider, then chuckled; Melody knew that he hadn't been trying to hit her but had been gauging whether or not she actually knew what she was doing.

He repeated the jab at her head with one hand, then swung the other upwards toward her belly. In a flash, Melody blocked the punch while simultaneously spinning almost all the way around; her other hand, still clenched in a fist, swung through the air as if it were a mace on the end of a chain, contacting the Sedent's jaw solidly but not with enough force to do much other than make him stagger ... and possibly mad?

Melody regained her stance again, smiled, and laughed. She decided it was time for her to do some taunting: "Maybe I should go get Elbara to stand in for you ... barbarian. She looked to have a little bit of true warrior in her."

Her confidence was building, though whether that was a good thing or not was questionable. She surge forward quickly with a goditje e mesme e lartë, a mid-high rounding kick that she'd learned in her martial arts training as a child. It didn't connect with Kengetar, though, missing his lower rib cage by just an inch. That wasn't the worst part though: she hadn't considered the carpeted floor beneath her feet, which was over unleveled ground, and the maneuver left Melody off balanced and leaning well into the man's reach.

Kengetar was sure that his blow would land, but somehow she had blocked it and hit him in the face with the same, fluid movement. He wasn't sure how she managed that, but when she mentioned Elbara, he suddenly saw red. "Don't you speak about her!" he yelled. He angrily threw his entire weight behind his next punch, aimed at her mouth. She tried to step back to avoid, but some irregularity in the floor slowed her, and Kengetar's wild lunge struck her. Now they were both off balance, and they fell to the floor together. Kengetar shot both arms out, one to break his fall, and the other to grab Melody.

Melody's head jerked back as Kengetar's fist glanced off her jaw and cheek. His momentum took him into her, and the both of them were soon hitting the floor. Kengetar tried to grasp Melody as they were slamming to the carpet covered dirt, but again her quickness prevailed; she rolled away from him and once again slashed the back of her hand at him, catching Kengetar square on his nose.

The pain shooting through his face and head must have been disorienting, because Melody was able to pop back to her feet and assume a fighting stance while he was only just righting himself to look up at her. His nose was bleeding; she lifted a hand to her mouth to find it bleeding as well.

"So, are we done yet?" Melody asked with a laugh that send red spittle out onto the carpet. She stepped closer and offered a hand, asking, "Or are we going to continue this until one of us actually gets hurt?"

Kengetar stood up and looked at the foreign gesture. The rage had passed. He didn't even remember why they were fighting now. A bit sheepishly, he stretched out his hand to meet Melody's.

Melody took Kengetar's hand, gripping it tightly and smiling, pleased that he'd decided they'd had enough. She reached her other hand up to her lip, then held her bloody fingers out before her.

"That hurt," she said playfully to the man who'd caused the injury. Speaking about someone drawing her blood, Melody said, "Not the first time ... probably not the last."

She released Kengetar's hand and looked toward the tent flap. "Kapiten!"

Broon, who had been waiting anxiously nearby, hurried in; he held his sword in his hand, ready to avenge what ever harm had been done to his Lady. But instead of finding her signaling such an act on his part, Melody casually gestured him to remain calm.

"Gather your best ten men, Kapiten," she told him. "Equip them for a hike overland ... through the forest to the Bay Road."

She was speaking of the road that connected the fishing villages of the Southernmost Bay to the Capital City. It wasn't a road traveled much by Yallans anymore. It was patrolled by barbarian tribes who had a tendency of kidnapping travelers, ransoming those who came from money, and selling into slavery those who didn't.

She looked to Kengetar again. "We would have a better chance of surviving in these hostile woods if we were joined by those who knew them. And, of course, there is still the matter of the task you have agreed to complete ... and, of course, the payment I will make once you have completed it."

Kengetar wiped his nose, and looked down at the red puddle that formed in his hand. He held his head back and pinched his nose with his finger and thumb. He felt the salty blood ooze down his throat. "It's not necessary to split our forces," he said, voice pitched into a nasal honk. "There is a path that leads back onto dry land. It could be widened with a day's work."

Melody considered Kengetar's plan a moment; she didn't like the idea of sending the children, women, and non-warrior males back the way they'd come with only a partial guard, so the Sedent made sense.

"Fine, we'll do it your way," Melody responded; she tried to sound reluctant but failed to contain the smile that lifted the corners of her mouth. To Broon, she said, "Put a third of your men on watch, a third on performing camp work ... hunting, fire wood, and such."

"And the rest, m"Lady?" the Captain asked.

She looked to Kengetar. She said with humor in her voice, not wanting the Sedent to think she actually thought of him as such anymore,"Put them under the barbarian's command. Kengetar, use then as you will: scouting, making tools, labor, whatever you need."

Broon and Kengetar looked at each other, both equally shocked. Kengetar had never expected to be given command of anything. Giving a shrug, he left the tent and took up his command.

After adding his Sedent volunteers to his Yallan force, he led them to the trail he had found. Each of them was armed with an axe or some sort of cutting tool, and set to hacking. They were making good progress, but once the rain began to pick up, the Yallans lagged. Southern tribesmen were inured to the sudden rains of the region, but Kengetar realized that the lowered visibility was a problem. The Roki hunter might return with allies, and he wanted to see them coming. So Kengetar called the work off for the day, and hoped that the trail would still be passable after the rain ended.

Fortunately, the trail was still there after the cleansing rain, and work resumed without incident. By the afternoon, the trail had been cleared wide enough for the caravan to pass through.