He hesitated, straining his ears.
The noise came again—a muffled, rhythmic clanking.
Craig veered a fraction; raced towards the sound.
Below Craig, dots appeared against the blue-grey shimmer of the grasslands ... dots that crawled grimly, steadily southward.
He knew, then—knew what the dots meant, and the clanking. A chill ran through him.
These were heavy vehicles in motion! This was Zenaor's column, grinding towards the village. They'd passed the barrier far ahead of Bukal.
And Vydys' serfs would never stand a chance against their power, their numbers.
That left it up to him.
Only what could one man do?