Myth conceptions by Robert Asprin

“That’s right.” Aahz shook his head in mock self admonishment. “We should have realized. Someone in charge of a supply company wouldn’t swing much weight in an army like this, would he?”

We had chosen this particular group of soldiers to approach specifically because they were a supply unit. That meant they were lightly armed and hopefully not an elite fighting group.

Aahz’s barb struck home, however. The officer stopped smiling and dropped his hand to his sword hilt. I found myself thinking again of Ajax’s protection.

“I have more than enough authority to deal with you two,” he hissed.

“Authority, maybe,” I yawned. “But I frankly doubt you have the power to stand against us.”

As I mentioned, I did not feel as confident as I sounded. The officer’s honor guard had mimicked his action, so that now all three of our adversaries were standing ready to draw their swords.

“Very well,” Claude snarled. “You’ve been warned. Now we’re going to bring our wagons across this spot, and if you’re on it when we get here you’ve no one to blame but yourselves.”

“Accepted!” Aahz leered. “Shall we say noon tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” the officer scowled. “What’s wrong with right now?”

“Come, come, Claude,” Aahz admonished. “We’re talking about the first engagement of a new campaign. Surely you want some time to plan your tactics.”

“Tactics?” Claude echoed thoughtfully.

“… and to pass the word to your superiors that you’re leading the opening gambit,” Aahz continued casually.

“Hmm,” the officer murmured.

“. . . and to summon reinforcements,” I supplied. “Unless, of course, you want to keep all the glory for yourself.”