Battle of Belgera, part four

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"Get moving monkey food!"

"They're too strong, sir!"

"Strong? You call that strong! Get your ass moving or you'll lose the opportunity to get clubbed by a Khraga come summer!"

That made it. Somehow the prospect of getting slaughtered by the giants in the mountains had the effect he needed.

"You heard the captain. We regroup. Fast, you sorry bastards or you'll earn being called halfmen, by the gods!"

It wasn't fast. They crawled away from the deathtrap. Rising and running was suicide. He'd seen what happened to the gate guards.

Almost across the street now. Then he had to try burying his face into the stone pavement when the whiplash of projectiles tore the very air apart over his head. He turned. The remains of a building covered most of the street in the direction of the attackers. Collapsing walls meant death to some poor bastard in the house, but the rubble of stone was all he needed to get to the corner. They'd make it to safety yet. Just around the corner, a new defensive position, and if they survived the next onslaught he might be able to see his men following him into a summer's worth of fighting against Khraga.

"Strong! I'll give you strong," he muttered as he crawled. Twice the height of a man the Khraga still gave you a decent chance to strike back.

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