I again indicated the point on my ground sketch.
“We know that the river between there and the shallows is both too deep to afford the Leapers footing and too wide for them to attempt attacking from the bank. The critical question is, Will the Leapers simply follow along the bank, or will they actually divide their forces and send a portion of their numbers ahead to the shallows? If they-“
“Commander!”
I was interrupted by a telepathed thought from Kor. I looked at her questioningly.
“Continue gesturing at the ground sketch,” she continued to beam, “but unobtrusively scan the terrain around us.”
I did, and saw the cause of her concern. In an unusual display of predawn activity, there were Leapers quietly creeping into view out of the shadows around us. Both from their stealth and from the focus of their motion, it was apparent that not only had we been spotted, but we were the object of their ambush.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
With the suddenness of a serpent’s strike the situation had changed. We were the hunted, not the hunters.
Later I would look back on the reactions of my teammates with admiration and appreciation. They did not panic either physically or mentally. Not so much as an angry lash of a tail marred their performance as they waited. They didn’t rail or beleaguer me with questions, but instead gave me several much-needed moments of silence in which to formulate our plans. Later I would remember, but now my mind was preoccupied, appraising our situation.
What at first glance seemed like more than a hundred Leapers on closer scrutiny proved to be fewer than fifty, still more than enough to make the situation desperate, but perhaps one not quite as hopeless as the first appraisal had indicated.