The men poured into the camp, stabbed the sleeping, overwhelmed those who were awake. I struck a man down, reached the tent, hacked it apart as the man within reacted to the uproar. I wound up two-handed and struck off his head, grabbed it by the hair, held it high, turned to check the progress of the raid.

The southerners were making no effort to defend themselves. Two hundred must have died already. The rest were trying to get away. Could I have routed them so easily?

Sindhu and Narayan came running, prostrated themselves, banged their heads on the ground and gobbled at me in that cant they used. Crows fluttered through the trees, raucous. My men hurtled around hacking and slashing, spending the wealth of fear theyd carried through the night.

Narayan. See what the survivors are doing. Quickly. Before they mount a counterattack. Sindhu. Help me control these men.

Narayan ran off. He came back in a few minutes. Theyve started gathering a quarter mile down the road. They think a demon attacked them. They dont want to come back. Their officers are telling them they cant survive if they dont recover their camp and animals.

That was true. Maybe another glimpse of the demon would encourage them to stay away.

I got the men into a ragged line, advanced to the edge of the wood. Narayan and Sindhu sneaked ahead. I wanted warning if the southerners were inclined to fight. Id back off.

They fled again. Narayan said they killed those officers who tried to rally them.

Fortune smiles, I recall murmuring. Id have to take a closer look at this demon Kina. She must have some reputation. I wondered why Id never heard of her.

I withdrew to the captured encampment. Wed come into a lot of useful material. Ram, get the rest of the band. Have them bring the stakes from the embankment. Narayan, think about which men are least deserving of receiving arms. There would be enough to go around now, almost.

Arms would be a trust and honor to be earned.

The change was dramatic. Youd have thought it was another Ghoja triumph. Even those who hadnt participated gained confidence. I saw it everywhere. These men had a new feeling of self-worth. They were proud to be part of a desperate enterprise and they gave me my due place in it. I walked through the camp dropping hints that soon they would be part of something with power.

That had to be nurtured, and continually fertilized with suspicion and distrust of everyone outside the band.

It takes time to forge a hammer. More time than I would get, probably. It takes years, even decades, to create a force like the Black Company, which had been carried forward on the crest of a wave of tradition.

Here I was trying to magic up a Golden Hammer, something gaudy but with no real substance, deadly only to the ignorant and unprepared.