“Our enemies know we are here.”
“Yes,” I agreed, my hands lying on the sheathed blade of Helvingar resting across my legs.
“If there is to be an attack, it will come sometime after midnight and an hour or two before dawn.”
“Yes. That has also occurred to me.”
“I do not feel the presence of any wizards near. But I do feel something strange is hiding off in that direction.” He lifted a hand and pointed to the blackness to my right. “It’s watching us. As if waiting for something.”
“Yes,” nodding again, turning to look thoughtfully in the direction the old man was pointing. “It came soon after the Sheeba left. I see its aura, but I cannot recognize it.”
“If an enemy,” Fairhands grunted as he continued to build up the fire, “why doesn’t it attack?”
“Perhaps it has not decided what it is
