A bitter spring day on the mountains south of Amber, and the army is
tired and tense, watchful of the enemy's camps in Garnath.  It's not a
pleasant thing to be harried and pursued, and to find yourself holed up
on a mountainside, the last defence of Amber.

Martin and his cousin Antonio, and the dragon Mordacious, talk quietly
at a vantage point some distance from their own camp, out of hearing of
their own troops.

Antonio stares out from his position on the ridge down at the enemy
encampment below.

A lean young man standing about 6 foot tall with blue-black hair, a
moustache, goatee, tanned skin and dark mocking eyes. He is well muscled
and his hands are covered with callouses of the sort you might expect
from a life aboard ship. He carries himself with an air of confidence
and his voice is deep and commanding with a broad Amber accent. He is
dressed in a long black-leather coat, red and white ornate waistcoat,
and a white frilled silken shirt. His trousers are black and have been
tucked into high leather boots. A silver cutlass hangs from a leather
belt on his left side, its pommel topped by a large ruby.

He shakes his head, "I don't think they're planning on moving anywhere
soon."

Martin follows his cousin's gaze down, then drifts over to where the
remnants of their combined troops are camped. "Probably just as well,"
he says quietly.

Mordacious ambles forward from behind the pair to look. "I could drop a
few boulders on them."

Forty feet long, the length of a mid-sized bus or truck, with a wingspan
almost twice that and a spined head bigger than a Mack engine block,
this dragon could easily manage a human at a crunch. Poor choice of
words, perhaps. The dark yellow-brown eyes are catlike, protected by
nictating membranes beneath heavy ridges, and the mouth is endowed with
numerous sharp teeth. 

A thick long neck joins head and body, the latter surmounted by two
huge, fan-like wings of leathery aspect; the scaly, armor-plated hide is
dully iridescent, mottled in earthen tones suited for the camouflage of
rough, rocky terrain. Powerful fore and hind limbs each bear curved
talons of respectable size; the forepaws are more dexterous, with
somewhat shorter claws. A great prehensile tail, sinuous and serpentine,
trails to the rear; this too is capable of savagery, for the retractile
blades of bone on either side are as sharp as any razor (and much
larger).

A narrow golden bracelet is wrapped around the dragon's neck, apparently
ornamental. If one has the dubious fortune to be close enough to see it
clearly, the heraldic unicorn of Amber can be seen, shallowly engraved
upon the dully gleaming surface. 

Antonio frowns, shaking his head, "No, the last thing we need now is to
stir them up. If I didn't know any better I'd guess this was just a
holding action."

"We don't want to let them get their shit together for the next phase,"
Martin observes.

Antonio nods, "That's why we're here. To make sure that we know what
their shit is." He turns to Mord, "What can you see them doing down
there?"

Mordacious peers. "Setting up tents, making themselves at home."

Antonio frowns, "Curious."

Martin frowns as well. "Staging area for the next step?"

Antonio shrugs, "Could be. Dragon, can you see any bugs down there
amongst them?"

"None of the spider-things," Mordacious says. "Maybe they're hiding in
the trees." "Or underground."

Antonio says, "Could they tunnel under the mountains? It's solid rock."

Martin studies the distant encampments. "How many types of bugs have
they got anyway?"

Antonio says, "I only saw one, though the ones with the red underbelly
could be a different type. Leaders perhaps. Hard to be sure."

Antonio glances at Mordacious, "What do you think? Do they taste any
different?"

Mordacious says "Not that I noticed." After a moment, "How are they
digging those tunnels? And where are they putting all the dirt?"

Antonio frowns, "Eating it, perhaps?"

Mordacious says, "Unless they are magical beasts, what goes in, comes
out."

Martin sets his helmet down on a nearby boulder. "Let's just hope
they're not in collusion with the roaches in the kitchens."

Antonio says, "That dung we found could be theirs."

Martin eyes the dragon after a moment's thought, then obviously thinks
better about querying it on its digestive habits.

Mordacious says, "Maybe something other than the spider-things made the
tunnels?"

Antonio nods, "Possible. So anyone seen anything like those bugs?" He
looks to Martin in particular.

"They're new to me," he shrugs. "Anyone see a leader type down there?
Either among the humans or the bugs?" Martin asks then. "We may have to
get our hands on some solid information soon."

Antonio nods and gazes back towards the encampment. "I can't see any of
them. Reds or not." He says, "The humans just look like Virgan
mercenaries."

Martin mms. "I guess someone decided to call Gerard's bluff."

Mordacious says, "If they had to cart the dirt away, those tunnels would
have been started a while ago."

Antonio says, "I'd expect to see the legions if Virga had the balls to
try a stunt like that, which I don't believe they do."

Antonio nods to Mord, "Which means that if they're planning to dig under
the mountains it could take them a while."

"It's pointless sitting up here speculating," Martin says, rubbing his
neck.

Mordacious says hopefully, "Can I go drop things on them?"

Antonio chuckles, "Not yet."

Martin grins tiredly, "Actually, I was rather hoping we might bring a
couple of them back."

Antonio says, "I want to head down into the valley and see if we can
find any tunnels. They may have already dug through that far already."

Martin nods. "When?"

"Now is as good a time as any." Antonio says, "Concealing tunnels would
be a lot harder down there than it is in Arden. I think we'd be able to
find them fairly easily if there were any."

"Right. How many of us?" Martin asks.

"The three of us should be able to handle it. All we need do is just get
Mordacious here to drop down and wander around. That's how we found the
other tunnel."

Mordacious says, "Even though they're underground?"

Martin quirks a brow. "You got the dragon underground?"

Antonio chuckles, "They're big tunnels." "At least the one we found
was."

Mordacious rumbles, "Big for some."

Martin scrutnises the dragon. His expression seems to suggest he's
giving a lot of thought to the size of those tunnels. "Sure you don't
want some of the troops along?"

Antonio pats the dragon, "With old faithful here? Not a chance." He
flashes both of them a grin.

Martin grins again, picking up his helmet. "Right. I'll let Daneel know
he's in charge for the day then."

Antonio nods, "You do that. Any word from Godwin yet?"

Martin snorts, chuckling, "Well, apparently he's been doing a lot of
shouting, and waving his stick around. More of his boys made it through
than I would have expected."

Antonio looks grim, "And Carlo?"

Martin tucks his helm under an arm and heads back towards the camp. A
shrug, and he shakes his head.

Antonio nods and averts his gaze back to the encampment.

Without another word, Martin trudges off down the slope, and is soon out
of earshot.

While Martin gives Daneel his orders, Antonio and Mordacious talk some. 
The dragon departs as Martin leaves the camp.

From the camp, Martin returns, trudging up the slope. He's lost the
armor, back in his usual garb.

Antonio watches as Mordacious flies off. He explains, "I sent him to
scout."

Martin glances up as the dragon heads skywards, just nods. "Everything's
taken care of down there."

Antonio nods, "Good. I think if we just have a look around and then when
the dragon comes back we can do a proper check. Sound good, cousin?"

"Might as well do the best we can," Martin agrees sombrely.

Antonio says, "Plus two Lords of Amber can probably sneak around quieter
than two Lords of Amber and a bloody big dragon."

Martin lets a lazy grin sneak across his face. "Well, I wasn't going to
point out the flaw in your plan before."

Antonio chuckles, "Shall we depart then?"

"Lead on, cousin," Martin nods.

Antonio scrambles down the ridge and along the narrow path that heads
down towards the valley.

Martin has a last glance round before committing himself to the downward
path. Satisfied that they aren't being observed, he follows in his
cousin's steps.

The path is long and winding as it leads through the shrubs that cover
the mountains.

Antonio says, "Were you here during the attack by Chaos?"

Martin shakes his head, answering in a quiet voice. "No. You?"

"No. I didn't hear about them until I returned." He says, "I heard that
it was bad. Very bad."

"Few wars are good," Martin shrugs. "That one cost us a King. I don't
know much else about what happened in it."

Antonio makes a face, "Two kings if you believe that Eric was ever more
than a regent with delusions of grandeur. And I've seen my fair share of
wars, cousin. I've even started a few.

"Its a little different when its your homeland that you're fighting over
though."

"No doubt," Martin's smile is small. "But you were speaking of the
battle at the foot of Kolvir, and that was where Eric fell."

Antonio nods. "It think it might have felt like this."

Martin nods, a gesture probably not seen by Antonio, ahead. "Yeah."

Antonio continues along the path as the afternoon light gently fades
into night.

Martin follows, quietly, pausing now and again to check their
suroundings.

As they round a bend in the path they gain a clear view into the valley
below. Amid the trees they can see a faint glow that appears and
disappears every few seconds. Pulsing, almost like a heart.

Antonio stops.

Martin halts, keeping low and to the shadows, his eyes fixed on the
pulsating glow below.

The glow continues to pulse. The beat is irregular but constant. It
seems to be originating from a place just out of sight perhaps a mile of
two further down in the valley.

Antonio edges forward a fraction and watches.

Martin moves forwards a couple of steps, testing each one, checks behind
them again, then settles still to watch the scene below.

As they watch they catch a glimpse of the glow being reflected off
something or lots of somethings, like a multitude of uncleaned mirrors,
the reflected light diffuse. The mirrors seem to be moving.

A faint sound of metal on metal reaches their ears from further down in
the valley.

Martin's brow wrinkles in a frown as he watches.

Antonio continues to watch his expression grim. He whispers, "How many
do you count?"

Martin says nothing for some moments, squinting into the darkness.
"Hundreds," he whispers back grimly.

Antonio nods, "And I give you ten-to-one that they're legionnaires."

Martin's sets into a grim line. "No bets, cousin. Whatabout the
light..?"

Antonio whispers, "That's what we're here to find out." He edges forward
silently.

Martin nods, checking behind them again as Antonio takes the lead. Then
he brings up the rear.

Antonio silently makes his way along the path until it no longer heads
in the direction that he desires. He heads right and pushes his way
through the undergrowth choosing a path that will make the minimum of
noise.

Martin follows unhurriedly, and as stealthily as the terrain will allow.

The path takes them out of view of the pulsing and slowly down towards
the tree-line. The incline steepens as they descend making it harder to
find a solid foothold.

Martin negotiates the incline slowly, testing every step he makes,
keeping close to the trees where he can for support. Every so often, he
pauses to look and listen for any signs that their presence may have
been given away.

They make it down the incline with little difficulty and pass into the
tree line.

Antonio moves towards the light.

Martin taps Antonio on the shoulder.

Antonio stops and peers around at Martin.

Martin points to himself, and to the left, and indicates that they
should meet up again in an hour.

Antonio nods and disappears into the darkness.

Martin moves away into the trees, slipping into their black shadows. He
makes his way stealthily towards the source of the mysterious light.

The trees are packed quite closely here nestled on the hill side. He is
still over a mile from the glow.

Making his way through the trees he comes to a ridge perhaps
half-an-hour after leaving Antonio. It gives a better view of the valley
floor.

Within the valley, quite a considerable distance from the road, which he
can dimly see winding its way up the mountains on his left, an army of
bronzed legionnaires is marshalled numbering several thousands.

Martin keeps low on the ridge, scanning the valley below, frowning.
Where in six hells are all these troops coming from?

Dimly through the treeline he can see the glow, still only faint but
definitely with a prismatic edge to it. Much like a trump after-image.

Martin's eyes widen as he recognises the familiar rainbow-effect.
Squinting into the darkness and the distance, he attempts to make out a
source for the effect.

The source is still too far away. He'd have to enter the valley to see
it properly.

Martin edges back over the lip of the ridge, and rolls onto his back. 
He slips out his Trumps case, and counts through the cards til he
reaches Gerard's, even as he's scrutinizing the shadows to either side
of him.

He raises the card to catch what little light there is, and begins to
focus on the image therein. The coldness steals over his fingers as he
stares and...

In his mind, Gerard says "Who?"

He's a big, powerful man with a heavy jaw that is fringed by a beard and
light mustache. He wears blues and greys and a wide black belt
encircling his middle. He seemed to be standing upon the battlements,
and he was not alone.

Martin answers very quietly, barely above a whisper "Martin." Behind
him, the scene is of an overcast night. Little more is discernible.

Gerard says "What is wrong?"

Martin's expression is tense. "Legionnaires massing by the thousands in
the valley." There's a grim pause. "It looks like they're Trumping in."

Gerard's eyes widen, "What?! How?"

In your mind, Martin just shakes his head, continues quietly, "Can't get
close enough. I can see the glow from here though. These guys are two,
maybe three days away from you max."

Then, Gerard brings another person into the Trump conversation - Niara,
blinking slowly.

Gerard nods, "Any better estimate than thousands?"

Martin's attention flickers over to take in Niara's presence, shifts
back to Gerard. Without meaning to, he notes that she's wearing that
orange and purple dress he saw her in before, the one with the butterfly
charms. He shakes his head again, "Two, maybe three thousand at this
stage. They're still coming through."

Gerard says "How close are they to you? Can you hit them before they hit
us?"

Martin's answer is grim, and simple. "We'll have to."

Gerard says "How long before you estimate they move?"

Martin looks about to add something, says instead, "I don't know. Right
now, I don't know what's going on down there. They're still coming
through, their supplies may be the last thing they bring across. And
there's still the other army behind us."

Gerard nods grimly. He turns to Niara and mutters to her.

Niara's gaze narrows, dagger-quick. She mutters something.

Martin frowns, waits a moment, says, "Look, I have to meet back with
Antonio. We'll call back later with anything new, alright?"

Gerard turns back to Martin and nods, "Call me as soon as you have some
new information."

Martin nods, passes his free hand over the Trump and severs the contact.

He takes one last look at the scene in the valley, edges away from the
crest of the ridge, and heads back into the trees to meet up with
Antonio.

Antonio is already waiting by the time he gets back.

"You took your time," he whispers.

"Called Gerard," Martin explains.

Antonio nods, "What did he say?"

Martin breathes out, says with little enthusiasm, "He'd like us to hit
them before they hit Amber."

Antonio arches his brow, "And expose our rear? What did you say to him
to piss him off so much?"

"Told him what it looked like was happening down there," Martin shakes
his head. "We're screwed either way."

Antonio nods, "They might just turn around and try to pincer us again
like they did in the forest, or they might head straight for Amber and
hope that we're too preoccupied to deal with both of them."

He gestures up the hill, "Come on, here is not a good place to be
discussing options."

Martin nods, looking behind him quickly as he heads towards the hill.
Antonio begins to climb.

Martin makes his way up the steep side quietly, careful not to disturb
the gravelly ground too much.

After returning to their camp, they discuss what they both saw, and come
to the same disturbing conclusion. Martin contacts Gerard again via
Trump, Antonio at his side.

Gerard says "Martin?"

Antonio smiles wryly, "And friend."

Martin answers "Yes."

Gerard says "What's the situation?"

Martin's tone is sombre. "Not good. If we hit the legions, the bugs come
up behind us."

Gerard nods grimly, "How soon can you move?"

Martin doesn't look too keen with his own answer. "Maybe a day or two."

Gerard seems very displeased but gives the order, "Do so."

Martin just nods, grimly.

Antonio nods, "We'll fuck them up good."

Martin manages a wry grin. "You can count on that."

Gerard says "Keep me informed."

Martin nods again. "We will."

Gerard says "Call me again at daybreak. The enemy might have trumps of
the family. I'll be rejecting all calls except at that time."

Martin nods. "Good idea. See you at daybreak."

Gerard nods.

Martin passes a hand over the Trump of Gerard, closing the connection.

Antonio looks to him, "Fun."

Martin returns the look, "No shit."

Antonio rises, "Let's go break the news to the others."

Martin packs his Trumps away, nods mutely.

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