From where we were, we could still see the smoke rising.  Sentinel, or whatever was left of it after the Dominion sacked it, was hidden behind the dunes of the Alik’r.  It had been a hard decision to make, with the civilians in tow, but ultimately was the best option.  The nomads of the Alik’r knew the desert well, and could be trusted to guide the non-combatants east to Taneth.  From there they could go where they pleased.  Some had wanted to join on with the army, to fight for their revenge—they were welcomed, but their numbers were insignificant.  Most of Sentinel’s fighting-age population were already armed, so that only left those too old and too young.  Then there were those left unconscripted who chose, instead, to see their families to safety.  Officially, they were charged with spreading word of the fall of Sentinel, but with their home’s destroyed, they had little to do but wander until they found a new place to settle down.

	[i]Family…[/i]  His family’s crypt was hidden behind a secret passage to beneath the castle.  According to legend, it was placed there by a particularly paranoid ancestor of his, who saw the threat of Necromancers looming on the horizon.  It was not, but his foolishness might protect, at least, Azzhlan’s honored dead.  His subjects would not be so lucky, nor anything else in the city.

	Azzhlan felt a hand on his shoulder, “My friend, we must keep moving.  We must organize.”

	Azzhlan felt his hands curl into fists unbidden, “We will make them pay, Avik.  By the hunger of Satakal, we will push them back into the sea and make all of Alinor burn.  And it starts here.  We will break them down until their spirit is nothing, and then we will spill their blood onto the sands and into the Iliac.”

	“When do I start?” Avik growled.

	“You do not.  You go to Heldom Mount.”  Azzhlan could not see his friends reaction.  “That is where the efforts to revive the Ansei are based.  If we had the Sword Saints, we would not have lost Sentinel.  I expect you to get them moving.”

	“I’ll do it, friend, but why are you really sending me there?”  Avik’s ability to see through him  made Azzhlan chuckle.

	“Nisira will be going with you.”

	“Oh?  And what business does the queen have at the feat of Dragontail?”

	“Her business is safety, Avik.” Azzhlan turned to his friend, “She is with child.”

	Neither of them spoke.  After a while, Avik broke the silence, his voice just barely above a whisper, “I swear Azzhlan, your wife and child will be safe under my care, even if it costs me my life.”

	Putting his hand on Avik’s shoulder, Azzhlan was no louder, “I know, my old friend.  That is why I chose you to be in charge of their safety.”

	There was another long pause.  “So,” Avik said, now at normal volume, “what are your plans for the Dominion?”

	“We could engage them directly and win, we proved that much at Sentinel.”  Azzhlan’s gaze turned again to the rising smoke, “but that will end nothing.  They will send more troops, and we will not be able to hold off another force of that magnitude, not after a direct confrontation.  We will raid their encampments, poison them and burn them.  Kill them, when we can.”

	“Just like what happened outside the walls.”

	“Yes, except this time there won’t be a city to collapse, only the Dominion.”

	“And if they follow the raiders?”

	“They do not know the land, Avik.  As a worst case scenario, we could lose them in the desert.  I had some of the nomads stay behind for a reason.”

	“And the boy?” Avik grumbled.

	“Talib isn’t a boy.”

	“He might as well be, Azzhlan.  He’s green as they come, and you sent him off in command.”

	“He’s in charge of getting to the port in Lainlyn, and making sure overzealous troops don’t kill valuable captives or burn captured ships.  Admiral Sabik still has command of the fleet.”

	“If there was another choice, I’d have you send someone else.”

	“Have me…” At this, Azzhlan could not help but burst out laughing.  “You insolent old bundle of scars!  If anyone else said that I’d...”  But his laughter was so great that he could not describe whatever fate law proscribed for those who gave their king backtalk.  When he regained his breath, he said “Thank you.  Laughter is so precious…”  The two warriors turned and walked back to the camp.