Bodies began to pile up. A dozen Krotes had died at the temple, their blood blackening the dust. The village stank of the dead, and half a day after the hawks had drifted in from the sea fresh blood was still being drawn.

Lenora ordered her warriors back, leaving a handful to badger the defenders. The rest set about preparing the village for the main army’s arrival. Boats were floated out beyond the harbor, taken a little way along the coast and then scuppered. The mole and harbor were cleared of fishing equipment, and buildings throughout the village were made ready to house as many warriors as could fit inside. Wagons were pulled to the village’s extremes and toppled onto their sides, and dozens of quivers of arrows were placed at these defenses, ready in case of an attack from inland. Lenora was sure that not one person had escaped the slaughter—other than those still fighting in the temple—but there was always a chance, and she had to allow for any eventuality.

It was as they gathered the surviving hawks together at the harbor that one of the Krotes suggested how to defeat the temple defenders.

The hawks that could be saved were left with piles of the village dead to eat. Their strength would take days or weeks to return, but the Krotes saw no purpose in killing them yet. Those few that were beyond saving were hauled slowly through the streets to the temple.

Arrows flew. The hawks grumbled and cried out as they were holed a dozen times, two dozen, but being shoved from behind they finally heaved themselves against the walls of the temple, covering the firing holes, dying, far too heavy to be shifted from within.

Stomach gases swelled as they gasped their final breaths. Their hides stretched so thin that they became translucent, ready to burst and let loose the appalling smell that always accompanied a hawk’s slow decay. The Krotes withdrew, made flaming arrows and fired them at their dead mounts’ bodies from a safe distance.

Most of the small fires went out immediately. Others held on pitifully, and a few spread, crackling their way across the dead creatures’ fatty hides. It did not take long for the first hawk to burst, gushing dancing blue flames across the street. A second explosion followed, a third, and the flames became voracious.

The fire quickly took hold of the temple. Flaming gases from the dead hawks vented through the small windows and set the insides alight. The creatures’ fat melted and flowed. There were screams from the temple, but only a few, and they did not last for long.