Wheeling about in its tracks, the Thane’s army turned north and within hours crossed the Mirrow at the old bridge whose name had been lost in antiquity, afterwards approaching the small garrison town of Sormanen, the same in which Malina had been held captive during her trial. Uncertain as to what they would find at Sormanen, they proceeded with caution, sending advance scouts far ahead, whose purpose was to spy out the enemy’s movements in case the garrison town had somehow been used to bait a trap.
While it became clear that their fears concerning the enemy’s whereabouts were unfounded, their caution, however, was not. Sormanen was virtually empty, but a small ambush, consisting of expert bowmen, had been remained in hiding, laying in wait with the apparent and express purpose of assassinating the Thane.
The would-be assassins were Elves.
Rather than be taken alive, these traitors either cut their own throats, ran themselves on the points of their own swords, or took poison; but not before killing two scouts and injuring three others.
One soldier, who discovered his brother among the dead assassins, seemed at once gripped by a black, fey mood, and demanded that the traitors be burned, even those few who still clung to life. An angry madness seemed to grip several of the Thane’s soldiers then, and they built a pyre from the wood of buildings they had begun to vandalize. Ignoring the Thane’s orders, they tossed the traitors, living and dead, into the flames, the reflected fire dancing in their eyes like doom incarnate, their features ruddy in the orange firelight, the smell of smoke and burned flesh permeating their clothing.