Following Datho's plan, we spread out to circle widely 'round the abandoned blaze of our campfire. I keep company with Keu Strong-Arm, trusting that beside him will be the best place once the fighting starts. We go down into the boglands as deep as we dare. The false dawn finds us lurking in a shallow ditch where we wait to spring the surprise on the Niafer war band.

We both flinch when the screaming comes.

"That were no beansidhe!"

Keu groans and sighs. It looks like he's wrestling with himself, one arm against the other, not a pretty sight. "It must be the sacrificer doing his work," he grumbles.

A wolf howls somewhere very near. Then another. There's a distant jingle and the ground shakes with a marching thud, thud, thud. They're coming!

The smell of Stong-Arm's sweat is suddenly strong. "I don't like being down in this wallow," he complains. "Too much like a grave pit -"

The rest of his words are buried in thunder. All at once they sweep in from every side! A storm bursts upon us. We are tangled in our own snare.

Keu leaps up with a roar, his powerful arm finally set free to do battle. I heft sword and shield, and scramble madly after him. My feet churn the mud that sucks at my boots. Instead of rising, I only go deeper into the mire. I'm stuck in this accursed bog hole!

"Help me! Keu, I'm sinking!" I holler out to him but it's useless with all the chaos now raging around us. The cold clutch of the ooze is now past my knees and creeping up on me. My wailing goes unheard. I raise my arms and wave my sword and shield. Good God, better a warrior should cut me down quick than I'd slowly strangle and drown in this slime!