One other chieftain who was wearing a green tunic and a dendra armor said: "We will attack them in two days. We have discussed a plan. We will hit them at two locations and overwhelm them after we have distracted them."

"What will the distraction be, Victrix?", asked an elderly man who had been seen before making arrows.

"We will burn their ships. Half of them to be precise", answered the chieftain with the green tunic.

"Why not all of them!", yelled somebody from the crowd. "And then when they have nowhere to run anymore, we slay them like the rats they are!", said another one. That led to the crowd getting more riled up. "An then we will show them the true meaning of the word "hospitality"!"

"In the mines!" yelled another one.

"Impaled on the greased tip of my village palisades!", demanded one.

"That's still too good for them after what they have done to my daughter!", shouted another.

The situation started to get more and more out of control and the bloodlust seemed to rise steadily. The whole ordeal started to sound less then noble homeland defense and more like a sadistic slaughter and torture fantasy.

"You fools!" Labans voice cut clearly through the rumble of voices. "If we destroy all the ships then they will indeed have nowhere left to go and will fight really hard to either stay victorious or, knowing what kind of fate will wait for them, they might maybe even fight till the last man. How many more of you might die if that happens? Will you even be able to win if they won’t rout? The sea-men are strong warriors. Even hardened fighters will have problems if they appear in majority."

Some hostile sounding voices were suddenly heard saying things like "What does that southerner even know about us. He should shut up! Maybe he is a spy of those bastards!"

Brendan jumped up, his eyes gleaming with anger and hatred. He took his great knife and shouted: “What did you bastard say? Come and I will retribute your insult to my captain!” Laban looked with terror on his companion who would be able carry out mass murder among the villagers in such cold fury. If Reza hadn’t held Brendan with his arms of iron, the situation could have turned into a bloody disaster, for the man that accused Laban of espionage wasn’t easily scared and got to his feet quickly, grabbing for his axe. But he was held back by some of his men, too.

The chieftain in the green tunic named Victrix nodded slowly and suddenly raised the hand. "Silence!", he barked, and everyone obeyed to his command. "Our friend Laban is absolute right. We for sure don't want to take all escape routes away from them. A cornered wolf is very dangerous. Our lust for revenge needs to step behind the goal of succeeding in this battle!"

Reluctantly agreeing noises started to arise from the crowd. It seemed that nobody really liked that idea, but the authority of the chieftains seemed to be enough for the crowd to calm down – for now.

"We will meet tomorrow evening again. Everybody should go out and gather the remaining men of the villages. We will need everybody's help when we want to do this!"

In the next days while everybody was busy gearing up and hyping himself for the battle to come, the mercenaries around Laban actually did the opposite. They were getting some rest. While Reza and Brendan had come out relatively unscathed of the whole fighting of the last days, this could not be said of Laban, Dil-Shad and Mabon. Mabon had it worst with a broken arm however the priest was the one who didn't need to stand in the frontline or, in an ideal world, at least shouldn't have to stand there. Dil-Shad had got her broken nose treated by a priest of a god called W´tan which was worshipped here in Aermorik.

Laban had surprisingly also laid low. Usually, he was somewhat hard to devastate like Reza and Brendan but that hit at the head must have got him good. He still complained – only to Dil-Shad when they were alone – about brutal headaches. He drank disgusting herbal tea and rested a lot these days. Of course, only after he had finally negotiated for a payment with the chieftains for their services and only after looking after Gwyn who was still worse off than anybody else but seemingly not in danger of dying anymore.

It was a calm evening. Laban was sleeping Brendan was guarding the camp somewhere and Reza had gotten a little bit drunk and starred with absent looking eyes into the fire. Mabon sat there with Dil-Shad at the campfire. Mabon felt that he was a good priest, friend and a thoughtful man but not always good when it came to talk to women. But tonight, he wanted to talk to Dil-Shad. The pain in his arm was lessening and Dil-Shad did also look better though that bandages over her nose made her look somewhat funny.

"Laban once mentioned that in the south there are so-called mummies. That are people who get put into bandages and then are buried alive. You look like you have just taken the first step on this journey", teased Mabon the girl from the south.

She smiled for a moment but then stopped immediately. Most likely her nose had reminded her that grinning from ear to ear was not a good idea.

"I am not even from Khem-Ur, so why would I be turned into a mummy?"

Mabon knew from talking to her before that she wasn't from Khem-Ur, but he sometimes just pretended that he had forgotten.

"I don't know. You look quite Khem-Urian to me."

"How is that?"

"I mean I know exactly two people from Khem-Ur, Reza and Laban. They are both squarish, hairy and rock-like looking..."
"Yesterday I was a lady from Aserabia. Now I am supposed to be – a hairy rock!", yelled Dil-Shad half angry, half laughing.

"...they also emanate a strong musky smell..."

"I don't smell bad!"

"...and when they put off their boots..." Mabon made a face of disgust.

"I have wonderful feet!"

"...and since all of that can be also said about you..."

Dil-Shad looked like she was seriously pouting. With her lower lip put forward looking like an angry child that didn't get it’s sweets.

"Oh, are you angry?", said Mabon pretending to be surprised moving a little bit closer towards Dil-Shad.

Dil-Shad gave him an even angrier look. "Who wouldn't be after that kind of description!"

"I know what will make you feel better."

"An apology!", said Dil-Shad

Mabon put on a fiendish smile. "A tickle attack!", he said and immediately began to tickle Dil-Shad with full force above her waist where most people where ticklish. Dil-Shad immediately started to scream and spasm: "Uahh! No! Stop! Uahh!"

The men nearby turned their heads, and some had an amused smile on their faces.

"Not just the waist!", yelled Mabon. "But also the stomach!"

"Plea...Uah...Noo!" Over the next minutes he mercilessly tickled her. At some point while trying to get away she slumped to the ground and they rolled through the dust. Mabon, while playing the fiend, tried his best to make sure that she wouldn't hurt her nose.

"Please .... stop....", said Dil-Shad completely out of breath while laying on the ground beside Mabon. "I ... can’t take anymore."

Suddenly with a fast move Mabon who had been lying beside her in the dust got up and came close to her, looking straight into her eyes.

"If you can’t take any more of my tickling then maybe you can take this", he said and then moved his face closer and gave her a kiss. It was more of a shy kiss at first but soon they started to kiss each other in earnest. Their own little world was however disrupted when they heard a bystander say: "Ah, it’s good to be young."

Mabon remembered that they were in a camp full of gruff men and didn't want this to lead to a bad situation. So, he stopped kissing Dil-Shad and put his hand on the side of her face while looking straight into her eyes and then after a moment got up, pulling her up with him.

She looked at him with apprehension in her eyes.

"You look angry", Mabon said.

"I am."

Mabon thought that he maybe had made a mistake by kissing her not in a more intimate moment but then he thought that their life could be over every day as mercenaries, so he didn’t feel particular apologetic about it.

Dil-Shad looked at him and shook her head: "Why did it took you so long to work up the courage to kiss me?"

"Oh," thought Mabon. He didn’t see that one coming. She was right. He had danced around her for quite some time and never felt that it was the right moment to approach her. Maybe his shyness had worked against him. He decided to take a page out of Brendan’s "I am an awesome Bastard!"-playbook.

"I wanted our first kiss to be a challenge for me so I waited until I broke my arm first since otherwise it would have been too easy for me."

"What?" Dil-Shad seemed puzzled.

Had his "Brendan the Bold"-imitation gone wrong? Suddenly he heard Brendan’s voice behind him.

"What Mabon wants to say is that he waited for today because after knowing you all this time and doing nothing his balls can’t take it anymore!" Then Brendan laughed wholeheartedly.

"Shut up, Brendan!" said Mabon. "I am not thinking..."

"Oh, so you are one of these Eunuch Priests. I didn’t know that."

"I am no eunuch”, yelled Mabon angrily and loudly which made some men in the camp turn their heads toward him.

"I don’t mean of course I am a man and want to… have fun."

"What is it now?”, said Brendan. “You want to or you don’t want to? Make a choice because....", and then he moved closer to Mabon’s ear and pretended to whisper into his ear while actually making sure that Dil-Shad could hear it, "... that Khem-Urian beauty will not wait for you forever!"

"I am not from Khem-Ur! I am not a hairy rock!", said Dil-Shad with confidence in her voice.

"Who said Khem-Urians are hairy?" Suddenly Rezas voice could be heard. "We shave ourselves all the time. Well, when we are not mercenaries working in the north where all people have meter-long beards... even the women."

Mabon’s head was going from left to right. This situation was getting out of hand. He just grabbed Dil-Shad by the waist with his healthy arm and lead her away from the campfire, to disappear with her from the side of his comrades.

Brendan and Reza grinned. “I hope he will indulge in laying her. Maybe they find some relaxation. What do you think of this mess?”, Brendan asked.

“I don’t know. I go where Laban commands me. If we get paid for cleaning the city, also that’s fine with me.”

They decided to take some sleep, so Brendan handed over night-watch to a local warrior who just nodded. Brendan and Reza found a place by the fireside and fell into an uneasy rest until the morning.

They were awakened by Laban’s grouchy voice. “Get up!” Brendan opened his eyes and stretched his arms and back. “Good morning, my captain. I’m too glad you have found back your normal mood. Friendly, confident, hearty. It’s always a pleasure to see your lovely face the first thing in the morning.”

“Your drivel brings my headache back, so shut up. Make yourself ready. I want you and Reza with me at a meeting with the chieftains. We want to strike tonight. Reza!”, Reza righted himself, still looking crumpled. “Move your ass and get something to eat for the two of you. I have to talk to Brendan in private.”

Brendan grimaced. He had never gone to school, but he felt like a pupil being disciplined by teacher, as much as he knew from stories. “Ok, let’s get it done. Chew my ass.”

Laban sighed; his comrade couldn’t simply hold his mouth. “Brendan, I want you to listen in the meeting, not to talk. The men are suspicious about you. They don’t trust you. Coran had told the chieftain you wanted to kill him, and everyone has seen your fury when the local warrior accused me of being a spy. They don’t think you are reliable enough for such a task.”

Brendan made an indignant face, but, to Laban’s surprise, didn’t make a nasty remark. He just nodded. “I will listen like a good child and not say anything among these noble adults.”

“Well enough, Brendan! And: thanks for defending me in the first discussion. You would have killed him, wouldn’t you?”

Brendan smiled from one ear to another. Laban had never thanked him before. “Of course. I would kill them all to protect you and those other three bastards.”

Then Reza came back and brought some bread, cheese, tea and water. Laban nodded approvingly. “Get some food. We meet in 15 minutes at the main fire.” So, Reza and Brendan sat down again and had their breakfast in silence. Mabon and Dil-Shad weren’t to be seen.

15 Minutes later Reza and Brendan found themselves beside Laban in the middle of the camp. Chieftain Victrix, Coran, Gwyn and three other elderly men with broad arms, axes and heavily used armor had come, too. Those were called Gurvan, Malo and Bricius. Victrix took the initiative. “My friends, we have come here to finalize our plans to retake the city. I am sure that we will achieve that with the help of Laban and his soldiers that have gained great renown in rescuing our most beloved comrade Gwyn.”

Gwyn nodded in approval and Victrix continued. “We will attack from two sides. We can reach the harbor from the outside with our main force and know of a secret entry into the city to send in a commando. As soon as we have set some ships on fire, we will have their attention and involve them into a battle, while the commando will bring down the palace from within. We hope that the sea-men will then surrender and get out voluntarily. We estimate that there should be only another 100 opponents left in the city as you have killed so many of them.”

Then Laban raised his voice. “Most respected Victrix, thank you for your words and fine plan. I don’t know who had put this into the world, but we hadn’t killed a 100 or more sea-men. According to my count it wasn’t something near to fifty. So, our enemy still disposes of many more men than you planned with. Be ready for a hard fight. It is not going to be a delightful stroll in the early summer morning.”

Victrix and the other chieftains looked disappointed and whispered to each other. Victrix said: “Be it as it may. We have to strike anyway and will bring them down!” He pounded his chest in a warrior-like style, the other chieftains followed his example. Then they got up and yelled commands. Soon after, there was a great hustle in the camp, and small groups of warriors were assembling each under command of a captain.

Laban commanded his pack around him. Mabon and Dil-Shad indeed looked relaxed. “Guys and girls, the time has come. We strike tonight when the sea-men are weary from a long day of oppression and terror. We will build a special force with the task to take over the palace. Coran and five other warriors will join us. They are hardened and know the way into the city. Let’s do this!”

Brendan whispered to Reza: “Why do we need those farmers? We can raid the palace on our own.” But Reza said nothing and started to sharpen his sword. Brendan shrugged his shoulders and decided to take a nap. His large knife was always as sharp as his tongue.

As the day went, more and more warriors from all the villages in the region came to the camp. They looked tough and skilled and were eager to shed some blood tonight. The chieftain looked satisfied. Their scouts had been doing well. In the late afternoon, almost 200 warriors were assembled, and Victrix overlooked the scene from above a small hill. Laban, Gwyn and Coran stood beside him. Again, they agreed upon the plan that Coran and Gwyn then spread among the captains. An hour later the army marched to Alessina, every single soldier ready to fight and to die.