Subject: Small-Cap Actiion Report

From: "Lidia Lacey" <[email-masked]>
Date: Sun, 29 Oct 2006 18:38:33 +0200

Alicia Blankenship

One man suddenly cried out and pulled free of the handholds. Not having Lucilius's strength-or stubbornness-he screamed. They heard his body hit the ground."He served you well even in the manner of his dying," Draupadi told the officer. "For whatever reason, he was-how shall we say it-aware? sensitive? vulnerable, " she brought out the word with the air of one struggling to express sophisticated concepts in a language more akin to a child's speech, "to the influence sent among us by the Black Naacals. Who knows what they might have done had he not screamed and waked us? Until the end, he was faithful; in the end, he gave up his life for his fellows. His ancestors can look down upon him and be proud." "There is a story," the Ch'in officer said, "of a fountain of pure water, a shrine in the depths of the waste, found only by people in the most desperate need-and sometimes not even then. I heard the story from a dying man, the last survivor of a caravan. A patrol had turned him up. We took him up and tried to save him, but he died at noon, raving as we thought. Raving," the Ch'in officer added thoughtfully. "We are already off our reckoning."The sun sank and set, yet the light persisted. It was too good to lose: Tired though they were, they plodded on. Those who were mounted, marched; those who had marched, rode, resting as they might. There would be time to cease, to camp when the light faded. The hot wind blew. Quintus was very happy."And what is to stop these men slaying us to please their masters?" Lucilius sneered.The sparks brightened and spread out, solidifying into a track of light upon the eternal drabness of the desert. On and on it stretched, inviting them to travel along it.One of the madmen whimpered. The camel bearing him twitched, then plodded onward. Limping. They would have to check all the camels' feet for cuts-a real pleasure to anticipate. When this was over, the kindest thing they could probably do for the wretched creatures- camels and madmen-would be to slit their throats. Then they could fall on their own swords.Draupadi clapped her hands. The shadows remained. She raised her voice in a chant. The words faltered and came out hoarsely. The shadows flickered. She drew breath and sang the more strongly, clapped her hands once again, and they finally withdrew. She almost sagged with weariness, but caught herself.He turned to Ganesha. The old adept's face was gray. "Come on, old man. Take my arm. You may not be able to dance, but you can stagger. And you will!""Army?" Ssu-ma Chao's bark of laughter sounded almost like a sob. "At every dawn, we become fewer and fewer. Come and see."Having struck off Rufus's hand, Lucilius reeled, his eyes rolling up in his head as if driven nigh-mindless by what his mind-or voices within it-told him he saw. Sweat poured down his face, as he started after his fellows. Each footstep-what did he think he was setting feet to? The very idea made Quintus shudder-was a battle won against deadly illusion, but he made it past the barrage.