Nelson, half stifled by smoke, sweating, labored with the men of Vruun and the Hoofed Ones, beating out each dangerous spark. And Kree sat his mount in the shaking red glow, his mind reaching out to steady the excited, jumpy Clans.
"Wait, brothers! Soon our fire will have conquered the fire of our enemies and then we shall seek them out!"
Nelson, laboring with the men of Vruun to stamp out the sparks that came across, felt that the south wind was a living thing, a malignant demon that delighted in hurling fire across the gap.
Yet he saw, through smoke-stung, half-blinded eyes, that the backfire was steadily if slowly creeping south. Soon it would have scorched a belt across which the giant flame-storm could not leap.
And then with a harsh, screaming cry, Ei winged down through the rolling smoke and sparks.
"The Humanites and the two outlanders come down the river, floating upon rafts!" cried the eagle's thought. "They are swinging in to land behind you!"
Appalled, Eric Nelson suddenly realized that that would be Nick Sloan's strategy, that it was the only possible strategy for him. Rafts that would carry the Humanite warriors would have been simple to build and with them the river became a safe highway to Vruun for Sloan and his forces, a safe road behind and past the fire-storm.
And Sloan, seeing them setting their backfire here, would try to swing around and catch them from behind, trap them between his forces and their fire.
"To the river!" Nelson cried. "If they land behind us we're lost! Ei, lead the way!"
"This way, Clan-brothers!" flashed the eagle's thought as he soared up again on thunderous wings.