“We must go to war,” he said. “Our old enemies will give us no peace. Send couriers to all the colonies of the Shining Slave Makers. We will meet the Red Slave Makers as we did before.”
“Ah,” said an old Lucidi, who stood at McEwen’s side, “that was a great battle. You don’t remember. You were too young. There were thousands and thousands in that. I could not walk for the dead.”
“Are we to have another such?” asked McEwen.
“If the rest of us come. We are a great people. The Shining Slave Makers are numberless.”
Just then another voice spoke, and Ermi listened.
“Let us send for them to come here. When the Sanguineæ again lay siege let us pour out and destroy them. Let none escape.”
“Let us first send couriers and hear what our people say,” broke in Ermi loudly. “The Sanguineæ are a vast people also. We must have numbers. It must be a decisive battle.”
“Ay, ay,” answered many. “Send the couriers!”
Forthwith messengers were dispatched to all parts, calling the hordes of the Shining Slave Makers to war. In due course they returned, bringing information that they were coming. Their colonies also had been attacked. Later the warriors of the allied tribes began to put in an appearance.
It was a gathering of legions. The paths in the forests about resounded with their halloos. With the arrival of the first cohorts of these friendly colonies, there was a minor encounter with an irritant host of the Sanguineæ foraging hereabout, who were driven back and destroyed. Later there were many minor encounters and deaths before the hosts were fully assembled, but the end was not yet. All knew that. The Sanguineæ had fled, but not in cowardice. They would return.