most of them found plenty to interest them in the remains too scattered to be retrieved.
Amara put her hand on Bernard's arm. "They knew the risks," she said quietly.
"And they expected sound leadership," Bernard replied.
"No one could have foreseen this, Bernard. You can't blame yourself for what happened."
"I can," Bernard said quietly. "And so can Lord Riva and His Majesty. I should have been more cautious. Held off until reinforcements arrived."
"There was no time," Amara said. She squeezed his wrist. "Bernard, there still is no time, if Doroga is right. We have to decide on a course of action."
"Even if it is the wrong one?" Bernard asked. "Even if it means more men go to their deaths."
Amara took a deep breath and responded quietly, her voice soft, her words empty of rancor. "Yes," she said quietly. "Even if it means every last one of them dies. Even if it means you die. Even if it means I die. We are here to protect the Realm. There are tens of thousands of holders who live between here and Riva. If these vord can spread as swiftly as Doroga indicated, the lives of those holders are in our hands. What we do in the next few hours could save them."
"Or kill them," Bernard added.
"Would you have us do nothing?" Amara asked. "It would be like cutting their throats ourselves."
Bernard looked at her for a moment, then closed his eyes. "You're right, of course," he rumbled. "We move on them. We fight."
Amara nodded. "Good."
"But I can't fight what I haven't found," he said. "We don't know where they are. These things laid a trap for us once. We'd be fools to go charging out blind to find them. I'd be throwing more lives away."
Amara frowned. "I agree."
Bernard nodded. "So that's the question. We want to find them and hit them. What should our next step be?"
"That part is simple," she said. "We gather whatever knowledge we can." Amara looked around the great hall. "Where is Doroga?"
"Outside," Bernard said. "He refused to leave Walker out there by himself."
Amara frowned. "He's the only person we have who has some experience with the vord. We can't afford to risk him like that."
Bernard half smiled. "I'm not sure he isn't safer than we are, out there. Walker seems unimpressed by the vord."
Amara nodded. "All right. Let's go talk to him."
Bernard nodded once and beckoned Giraldi. The centurion came back over to the doorway bearing a wide-mouthed tin cup in one hand. He took his position at the doorway again and offered the steaming cup to Amara. It proved to be full of the thick, meaty, pungent soup commonly known as "legionare's, blood." Amara nodded her thanks and took the cup with her as she and Bernard walked outside to speak to Doroga.
The Marat headman was in the same corner he'd defended during the attack. Blood and ichor had dried on his pale skin, and it lent him an even more savage mien than usual. Walker stood quietly, lifting his left front leg, while Doroga examined the pads of the beast's foot.
"Doroga," Amara said.
The Marat grunted a greeting without looking up.
"What are you doing?" Bernard asked.
"Feet," the Marat rumbled. "Always got to help him take care of his feet. Feet are important when you are as big as Walker." He looked up at them, squinting against the sunlight. "When do we go after them?"
Bernard's face flickered into a white-toothed grin. "Who says we're going after them?"
Doroga snorted.
"That depends," Amara told Doroga. "We need to know as much as we can about them before we decide. What more can you tell us about the vord?"
Doroga finished with that paw. He looked at Amara for a moment, then moved to Walker's rear foot. Doroga thumped on Walker's leg with the flat of one hand. The gargant lifted the leg obligingly, and Doroga began examining that foot. "They take everyone they can. They destroy everyone they can't. They spread fast. Kill them swiftly or die."
"We know that already," Amara said.
"Good," Doroga answered. "Let's go."
"There's more to talk about," Amara insisted.
Doroga looked blankly up at her.
"For instance," Amara said. "I found a weakness in them-those lumps on their backs. Striking into them seemed to release some kind of greenish fluid, as well as disorient and kill them."
Doroga nodded. "Saw that. Been thinking about it. I think they drown."
Amara arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Drown," Doroga said. He frowned in thought, looking up, as though searching for a word. "They choke. Smother. Thrash around