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Giant would be enough of a deterrence to keep Harnin’s soldiers at bay. Such wasn’t the case. Enemy soldiers continually threw themselves at the Giant once they’d overcome the initial shock of facing a twelve-foot-tall warrior. They died just as easily.
    “What I don’t understand is Skaning’s willingness to throw away lives,” Bahr added. “Harnin can’t have that many disposable troops to dedicate to running us down.”
    “The rebellion’s drawn attention to this part of the kingdom. Ingrid and her people have stirred up a hornet’s nest,” Boen said. “There’s no feasible way to reach the ruins without detection.”
    “I don’t think we can make it if that’s the case.”
    Bahr’s reluctance to fight was contrary to all they’d been through since initially being hired to rescue Maleela from Rogscroft. Battles followed in a never-ending stream as they crossed half of Malweir. He was tired. His mind wasn’t as sharp as it had been. Age and hardship combined to lower his stamina and esteem. Thoughts of sailing away to another land entertained him on those rare moments when he was alone. It was past time to move on. Delranan wasn’t what it once was, even for a man who turned his back on the throne when he was barely out of his teens.
    His easygoing life was in fragments, broken and scattered beyond repair. What remained accompanied him on this quest. A pair of could-have-been sell swords. An enigmatic wizard who spoke of days long past, now blinded by the powers of the gods. A strange woman from the Jungles of Brodein with an affectation towards Dorl Theed. Skuld, the stowaway struggling to find his place in life. A surly Dwarf warrior who enjoyed killing a little too much for Bahr’s liking. A Giant with the emotional development of a human child and Boen, the Vengeance Knight who knew nothing but battle. Not the worst of friends but not what he expected after such a long life.
    “It’s time to change tactics,” Boen suggested.
    Bahr cocked his head. “How do you mean?”
    He knew they couldn’t take Skaning’s forces head-on. His small band of heroes was no match for a sizeable force--a force neither Boen nor Bahr knew how large. Running accomplished nothing. It was only a matter of time before a stray arrow took one of them out, or worse. They were trapped between the rocks with no plausible escape route.
    The Gaimosian continued. “What do you know of this Skaning?”
    Bahr took a moment to think. “He’s not the best or brightest in Badron’s court. Young, brash, that makes him prone to mistakes. What he lacks in experience he more than makes up for with ferocity. He’s a killer, Boen, just not one with honor.”
    “That would explain why none of the soldiers we’ve killed wore uniforms.” Boen grunted. “I doubt they’re more than mercenaries.”
    “Meaning they can do whatever it takes to ensure our deaths,” Bahr concluded.
    The Gaimosian nodded. “And we can do what needs to be done as well. Mercenaries don’t garner the same treatment as uniformed soldiers.”
    Bahr disagreed. Combatants should be treated accordingly regardless of their affiliation. Executing someone simply because they were mercenaries was akin to murder in his eyes. He purposefully avoided the discussion, knowing Gaimosians were viewed in similar light.
    “We can’t afford taking prisoners, Bahr,” Boen pressed, mistaking silence for acquiescence. “Sooner or later they’re going to get the better of us. There is only so much Ironfoot and I can do to prevent it. Our weapons are blunted. Armor needs to be repaired.” He lowered his voice so only Bahr heard. “We’re at the breaking point. These people have been through every imaginable scenario you or I can think of. There’s only so much left to give.”
    “What would you have me do, Boen? This quest is committed to stopping the Dae’shan from releasing the dark gods. We’ve gone well beyond the point of turning back.”
    Disturbed, Boen