The Gate and Ryan’s people set forth across the remains of the plain, Gloria in front as always. Jak and Ryan followed close behind her, along with the first guard of Gate women. In the middle of the party came the wag that carried the young of the tribe. The children were always well protected and kept from harm, and the fact that they had hardly been noticeable on the journey spoke volumes for the abilities of the tribe’s menfolk to keep the young safe under pressure. But this day was different. Two of the eight Gate Amazons who had been chilled in battle had children among those on the wag, and the three children—two girls and a boy—were visibly distressed by the passing of their mothers, even though they showed relatively little sign of this by most children’s standards. Dean traveled with them on this morning, the memories of his mother, Sharona, strong with him. Krysty accompanied him, empathizing with the emotions she could feel coming from him.
Doc was traveling at the rear of the caravan, along with Jon and Petor.
“I’ll be glad when we get out of the open and into some cover,” Jon muttered.
“Better to see them coming, like last night,” Petor mused.
Jon shook his head. “No, at least in cover we can send out outriders and take our own cover. Out here we’re exposed.”
“Harder to ambush, though,” Petor added.
Doc smiled, his unusually strong white teeth gleaming in the sun, and a light sparkling in his eyes. “I think, my dear boys, that you have discovered one of the great dichotomies of warfare—that for every advantage there is a disadvantage. It is all a case of swings and roundabouts, mountains and valleys. What you lose on one hand you gain on the other, and so on and so forth. In other words, my dear boys, there are no winners or losers ultimately, because it all depends on which side of the fence you stand and which part of the half-empty and half-full glass you examine.”
With which he sat back on the top of the wag and smiled serenely while Jon and Petor gave him bemused stares.
Mildred and J.B. were just in front, and heard Doc Tanner’s discursive lecture. Looking back at the two confused teenagers, Mildred laughed.
“You crazy old buzzard, you want to confuse these poor boys so that they don’t know if they’re coming or going?” she called back to Doc.
The old man continued smiling serenely, and merely stated, “Life is confusion, a harsh lesson that I learned the hard way. If I can make it a little easier for someone else, then I shall be a happy man.”
J.B. pushed back his fedora and scratched his head. “If that’s making things easier, Doc, I’d hate to be around when you made them difficult.”
Meanwhile, at the front of the caravan, Gloria had approached the beginnings of the woodland. The division between the plain and the woods was sharp, emphasizing that this was an artificial division. She slowed her pace as she reached it, her spring-heeled walk slowing and the flowing red mane of hair bouncing less and less. When she reached the edge of the plain, she turned and held up her arm.
“Okay, time to get triple red again,” she called. “You know what to do, so do it.”
Ryan and Jak arrived beside her, both glad that they were able to slow their pace under the burning sun.
“It’ll be good to get out of this fireblasted heat,” Ryan said, casting his good eye to the skies.
“Too true. I hate traveling when it’s this blasting,” the warrior queen said.
“Not look like it,” Jak said humorously, eying the nut-brown and tanned skin of the Gate leader.
“Well, mebbe a bit, then, sweetie,” she said with a lopsided grin.
While this exchange had been taking place, a group of outriders had moved into the woodland, spreading out to cover all points in front and to the side of the path the Gate queen intended to take. She unsheathed her panga and tested the edge with the ball of her thumb.
“Time to start the work,” she said softly, inclining her head to catch the sound of whistled signals from within the forest ahead.