"Maybe they don't need us after all," Camara Tal snorted with a slight smile.

"Why do you say that?" Faalken asked.

"I've seen them fight seperately. I wouldn't fight them together for all the money in the world." She tossed her raven tail of hair back over her shoulder. "They may have the Doomwalker down before the Faerie can get over there to destroy it."

"Not quite," Dolanna said. "Doomwalkers can only be harmed by magical weapons. Faalken is the only one of us fortunate to own one."

"That's no problem, Dolanna," Phandebrass said with a smile. "I know a spell that places a temporary enchantment into a weapon. It'll make it just as good as a magical weapon, but the effect only lasts about fifteen minutes."

"I know a spell that will extend the effect of another spell," Camara Tal added. "I can stretch that fifteen minutes into nearly an hour."

"It'll work on a wizard spell?" Phandebrass asked.

"If it didn't, I wouldn't have mentioned it," she replied.

"That'll give us real weapons against it," Faalken said approvingly.

"Then that is what we will do," Dolanna said. "If we find the Doomwalker is indeed there, we will withdraw to an appropriate area. Phandebrass and Camara Tal will prepare the weapons, and we will wait for it. Once it arrives, Tarrin and Allia will commit it to battle. When they do, Sarraya cuts it off, we surround it, then we weaken it to the point where Sarraya can destroy it. She must do this on the first try. If she fails, the Doomwalker will certainly flee, and attempt to ambush us later."

"Sounds like a plan," Faalken agreed. "A pretty hairy one, but a plan all the same."

"Hairy? How?" Camara Tal asked.

"You'll understand when we get there," Faalken chuckled. "I've seen that Doomwalker fight. It's not going to just lay down and die."

"It sounds like the Knights are not as brave as their reputation."

"The Knights are trained to avoid stupidity, Camara Tal," Faalken grinned at her. "Stupid Knights tend to die, so to prevent continual training of replacements, we train them to avoid stupidity whenever possible. Never fight a Troll without at least four Knights, because the average Troll will kill at least one Knight if they don't have four. It's a simple rule, one there to teach Knights that they're not invincible war machines. Well, we don't have a rule for Doomwalkers, but if we did, that number would be around fifty. Minimum."

"Well said," Dolanna agreed. "There is little more that we can do about this now. Now we simply wait, and hope that the Doomwalker has not reached Saranam."

"I'd rather face it now," Camara Tal grunted. "At least then we know it won't be following us to Dala Yar Arak. We'll have enough to worry about when we get there."

"We'll have enough to worry about in Saranam," Faalken grunted. "Thanks to the Wikuni, I don't doubt that every port city knows who we are and what that means. We may be fighting off a horde of other Questers."

"We'll see," Dolanna remarked, looking out over the ocean. "There is little else that we can do."

Tarrin looked out, and they all did one by one, staring into the sea, towards Saranam. Towards dangers both possible and certain.

GoTo: Title EoF

Chapter 20

It was certainly a strange city.

Saranam loomed past the bow as Dancer glided into a shallow, open harbor. It was a strange city, a city of color. Tents dominated the city, staked in orderly rows that resembled buildings, interspersed sparsely with buildings of stone or wood, and the rare tower or other structure that rose over the colorful meadow of tent roofs. Tarrin had never seen anything quite like it bofore. Saranam was a trade city, a place where Arakite merchants came to sell their wares, since so few traders and merchants would go to Dala Yar Arak. It served as a transition for trade, and that explained the tents. A merchant who came to Saranam wasn't going to be staying longer than a couple of months, and inns were expensive, so a tent was the perfect alternative. The city was nestled against a very shallow, gentle harbor, little more than a dip in the coastline, rising only slightly from the ocean. The only thing that stood out in the city were the towers of the city's walls, and the docks. Saranam had an impressively large dock system, to handle the volume of ships that visited, complete with those strange crane devices he'd seen in Den Gauche. The harbor was full of ships, Wikuni clippers and Arakite caravels, Western galleons and smaller fishing vessels of myriad constructions. Even an Ungardt longship was docked in one corner, something Tarrin never expected to see in the Sea of Glass.

The place smelled very bad. Even from as far out as they were, he could smell the reeking stench of the city. That only seemed to make sense, since the city looked to be lacking a sewer system. It was hard to drain water from streets that were lined with tents. From where he was, he wasn't sure if the streets were even paved. Saranam was an extremely arid place, so it probably made little sense to pave the streets. No rain meant no mud, and so long as the ruts made by wagons were raked out from time to time, a dirt street would serve the city just as well as a paved one. Saranam seemed to be a city that lacked many things he was used to seeing in a city.

"What's the matter with you?" Dar asked curiously, staring at him. He and the Arkisian were standing at the bow to get a look at the city in the waning light of the afternoon. The sun was close to setting, and Renoit was trying to dock before the sun went down.

"Can't you smell it?" Tarrin asked in disbelief. "It's so strong, even you should smell it!"

"Smell what?" Dar asked. "I just smell ocean."

Tarrin threw up his paws. "Humans!" he snorted scathingly. "That place reeks, Dar! It stinks so bad, I can smell it from here!"

"We're a longspan out, Tarrin," Dar objected. "And the wind is to our back!"

Tarrin gave him a flat look.

"Oh. I guess that's why you think it smells so bad," he reasoned.

"Exactly," Tarrin said, putting his paw over his nose so his own scent dulled the sharp stench assaulting him. "I'm starting to hope Renoit will pass this city by."

"We need supplies," Dar said. "Renoit said we'd only be here a day. Two at the most."

"That's two days too long for me," Tarrin grunted. "I think my nose is going to melt."

"Go human," Dar said. "You told me once that your nose isn't as sensitive in human form."

Tarrin snorted. "Kill my nose or kill my body. What a choice." He absently shifted into his human form, causing the nagging ache to immediately take up residence inside him, but it did blissfully cause the horrible stench to fade, and then disappear from his nose. "I think my body can take it better than my nose."

"Sometimes your blessing is your curse," Dar said philosophically.

"I see you shaved."

"How many cuts do I have?" Dar asked with a chuckle.

"A few. Nothing serious. Nothing your horde of admirers will notice."

"Please," Dar grunted. "They drive me crazy. What do they want from me, anyway?"

"I can tell you that, Dar," Tarrin said with a steady look. "Humans may be smart, but they're still animals. Those girls want exactly what any female in season wants."

Dar blushed furiously. "How do you know that?"

Tarrin touched the side of his nose meaningfully. "When a human woman's in season, her scent changes," he said calmly.

"I wish I could smell that," he growled softly. "Talli stuck her hand on my rear yesterday, and she tried to kiss me."

"If you want to get rid of them, bed a few of them. They'll realize that you're just using them for sex, and they'll stop bothering you."

" Tarrin!" Dar said in a strangled tone. "That's-that's-well, that's rude!"