She always saw personally to the packing of her writing kit. She had a small stack of thin clay tablets in their bamboo frames, three of which went in a durable bamboo box in a saddle bag strapped on her mount, in order to have them ready for use on a moment's notice. Being Scribe was not a responsibility to be taken lightly.
While men and horses formed up into long columns, Si'Wren finished her own preparations and prepared to mount up. She had managed so far to be always ready before the others, lest they complain.
Borla was standing with several of his captains, as they discussed with him the anticipated route and possible obstacles that might be encountered today.
Emperor Euphrates sat on a pile of cushions in front of his tent, before which stood his royal camel bedecked and festooned with all the tassels and ornamentation of it's kingly station.
It was unbecoming that an Emperor should sit on his camel and wait while the common soldiers went about their occasionally lengthy preparations for the march. More fitting, rather, was it that they should all make ready, and then wait on their Emperor until he should mount and give the command to Borla for the day's march to commence. Borla, as was customary, would then loudly pass the word on down the chain-of-command through his Captains of Fifty, and the march would commence.
The order to begin the long grueling day's march should be coming through any time now.
Suddenly, above the general background noise of many voices coordinating their preparations to march, Si'Wren heard from across the camp a distant cry;
"Kaaaadruuuug!"
An icy chill coursed through her body as Si'Wren looked up anxiously, and Borla jerked up his hand savagely to cut off one of his Captains in mid-sentence.
"What was that?!" Borla asked sharply.