The Desert Spear

the others had assumed the scouring would take all night, and planned for reserves of fighters to be brought in as needed and much of Leesha’s flamework used.
    With the Krasians fighting, the battle was over in minutes.

    Krasian and greenlander alike stood frozen when the last demon fell, staring at one another in shock. All continued to clutch their weapons, as if unsure the time for battle was past, but none dared make the first move, waiting for word from their leaders.
    “The
chin
watch us with one eye,” Jardir said to Ashan.
    Ashan nodded. “The other eye looks to the giant and the red-haired
khaffit
boy who made the
alagai
run in terror.”
    “They stand as frozen as the others,” Jardir noted.
    “Not the true leaders, then,” Ashan guessed. “
Kai’Sharum,
or the heathen equivalent. The giant might even be their Sharum Ka.”
    “Men still worthy of respect, then,” Jardir said. “Come.”
    He strode over to the two, slipping his spear into his shoulder harness and showing his hands to indicate he meant no harm. When he stood before the men, he dipped a polite bow.
    “I am Ahmann, son of Hoshkamin, of the line of Jardir, son of Kaji,” he said in perfect Thesan, seeing the men’s eyes flare in recognition. “This is Damaji Ashan.” He gestured to Ashan, who imitated his shallow bow.
    “Honored,” Ashan said.
    The two greenlanders looked at each other curiously. Finally, the red-haired boy shrugged, and the giant relaxed. Jardir realized with surprise that the boy was dominant.
    “Rojer, son of Jessum, of the Inns of Riverbridge,” the red-haired boy said, sweeping back his multicolored cloak. He set one leg forward and the other back, lowering himself in some sort of greenland bow.
    “Gared Cutter,” the giant said. “Er…son of Steave.” He was even less civilized, stepping forward and sticking out his hand so quickly Jardir almost caught his wrist and broke his arm. It was only at the last moment that he realized the giant merely wanted to clasp hands in greeting. He squeezed hard, perhaps in some primitive test of manhood, and Jardir returned the pressure until both men felt their bones grinding together. The giant gave him an extra nod of respect when they finally broke apart.
    “Shar’Dama Ka, more
chin
approach,” Ashan said in Krasian. “One of their heretic clerics and the heathen healer.”
    “I’ve no wish to antagonize these people, Ashan,” Jardir said. “Heathens or no, we will respect them as if they were
dama
and
dama’ting
.”
    “Shall I wash the feet of their
khaffit,
as well?” Ashan asked, disgusted.
    “If I command it,” Jardir replied, bowing deeply to the new arrivals. The red-haired boy stepped in smoothly to facilitate introductions. Jardir met the Holy Man, bowed, and forgot his name instantly, turning to the woman.
    “Mistress Leesha Paper,” Rojer introduced, “Herb Gatherer of Deliverer’s Hollow.” Leesha spread her skirts and dipped low, and Jardir found himself unable to take his eyes from her displayed cleavage until she rose. She looked him boldly in the eyes, and he was shocked to find hers were blue like the sky.
    On impulse, Jardir took her hand and kissed it. He knew it was bold, especially among strangers, but Everam favored the bold, it was said. Leesha gasped at the move, and her pale cheeks reddened slightly. If it was possible, she became even more beautiful in that moment.
    “Thank you for your assistance,” Leesha said, nodding her head at the hundreds of
alagai
corpses in the clearing.
    “All men are as brothers in the night,” Jardir said, bowing. “We stand united.”
    Leesha nodded. “And during the day?”
    “It seems the Northern women do more than just fight,” Ashan murmured in Krasian.
    Jardir smiled. “I believe all people should stand united in the day, as well.”
    Leesha’s eyes narrowed. “United under you?”
    Jardir felt Ashan and the greenland men tense. It was as if no one else on the scene mattered. Only they two would determine if the black demon ichor on the field of battle would soon be covered with red human blood.
    But Jardir had no fear of that, feeling as if this meeting was destined long ago. He spread his hands helplessly. “If it is Everam’s will, perhaps someday.” He bowed again.
    The corner of Leesha’s mouth quirked in a smile. “You’re honest, at least. Perhaps it’s best, then, that the night is young. Will you and your councilors share tea with us?”
    “We would