Orla did not waste time.
She walked once around the dead Husher and looked hard at the cuts. Then she came back to the fire and crouched beside it, with her five scouts standing watch at her back.
"I'll tell you what you need to live through tonight," she said. "The rest can wait until you're behind a line."
"Go on," Almond said.
"First. How many are you?"
Marcus had the number ready. He had counted on the road, and again in the field.
"Ananta Regalon is thirty-one thousand, four hundred and six," he said. "Skytheum brought nine thousand and twelve."
Orla looked at John, who was sitting a little apart with his people. The dark behind him was full of shapes, large and small. None of them were quite the shape of a person.
"And you?" she asked.
"Enough," John said pleasantly.
Orla stared at him. Then she decided, very sensibly, not to ask again.
