Tarwin's Gap had finally fallen just the day before. Rumor claimed that the Lord Dragon himself had fallen at the Gap, but the M' Hael would say nothing of whether or not the Lord Dragon had even been at the grisly battle. The horde now descended on Fal Dara, and Revak knew it would only be a matter of time before that defensive post was overrun as well.

"Strike and flee", the M' Hael had told him. "Weaken them and put the fear of the Light into them. Perhaps their spirit will lessen by the time they reach the city."

Revak glanced over his shoulder, to the thirty or so men crouched at the bottom of the hill. Out of those thirty, only five wore black coats. So many had died, and not just Asha'man, Aes Sedai and Warders as well. Soldiers beyond count now lay rotting in the cold and barren pass.

The rest of Revak's force was all Shienaran warriors that wore plate and mail armor and carried large two-handed swords with longbows across their backs. They were ready. Slowly, he crept back from the bushes and slid down the hill. The men all looked at him expectantly.

"They're making their bloody way through the flaming valley right now," he said grimly. "We rush up behind them and we bloody strike hard. They'll bloody have a hard time trying to turn around and give chase as we -"

"As we what?" one of the men in black coats asked with a haughty voice. "Run away?" Word was that this boy was the son of some southland lord. Tear, would be Revak's guess, judging by the pointed beard and his eagerness for battle. Revak would never understand why Jorsen had ever been Raised.

The other Shienaran's gave him the boy a cold stare, before turning back to Revak. They had seen plenty of battles and they knew the difference between stupidity and bravery. One of the other Asha'man gave Jorsen a hard nudge and the boy fell silent with a sullen scowl.

"Everybody knows their role?" Revak demanded and all thirty men nodded grimly, even Jorsen, though he still scowled. "Then let us begin."