Liam cursed as he paced in his tent. The smoke was interfering with the ability of his griffins to contain the city. It wasn’t walled to begin with, which gave far too many exits and entrances. But the breeze from the ocean was blowing the smoke right into the faces of his griffins and riders.
They were circling further out, but the desert men and women blended into the surroundings. They had much more experience in this harsh landscape than he and his men did. He knew many of them were escaping, which would only make future pacification more difficult. And those cities were hardened already.
True, he had advocated coming here first. But he hadn’t anticipated any troubles in securing the city. At least, not this many. He figured they’d take the city the first day and the griffins could outfly any people who escaped, thus making any warnings they might give moot.
He looked to the West. The sun was setting. Soon, even more of the desert folk would make their way out. Griffins had sharp eyes, even in the dark. It came from both their leonine and avian heritage. But even they could not see through smoke.
The more he considered it, the more certain Liam became that the desert men had set their own city ablaze. It was just too convenient. And that spoke of either very quick thinking on the part of the desert men, or long term plans for this kind of confrontation.
Neither was a very comforting thought. Although the latter was the more disturbing of the two.
He needed more information. He wanted to speak with Lysander to see what was going on inside the city. He was not used to playing the secondary role in any encounter. He didn’t like it. But it wasn’t that he had some compulsive need to be in charge. He didn’t like it because he didn’t know what the men inside the city were doing.
He had read history. He knew that in any battle, certain atrocities occurred. He had always vowed that if he found himself in this situation, he would do his best to keep those atrocities to a minimum. He wasn’t sure he could say the same for Lysander Hammersong.
He made a decision. He called out to his valet to have his griffin saddled. He would circle the city and land near the docks, then ask for an escort to the command center.
He grabbed his riding gloves and stepped out of the tent.
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