Chapter Thirty-SixFrom atop a small hillock overlooking Empiritus Field, Warran watched as a flash of lightning illuminated the western horizon, followed by a distant clap of thunder. He turned his attention to the south where, just below him, nearly two thousand men stood stock-still in standard Daradian seven-by-four formations.
Beside him stood Agedor, bow clasped firmly in his hand. He shuffled his feet, staring beyond the throng of armed soldiers toward another large hill in the distance. It was down this hill that Elzor, Elzaria, and their Vandan allies would pour like a pack of ravening lyraxes.
“Still no word from the rest of our army?” Agedor said, avoiding eye contact with his older brother.
“No,” Warran said, casting another wary glance westward. “It is a two-day ride to Prom
