He lifted his head and sniffed the air. “The wind is from the west, so we must circle around to this spot, to have the wind behind our backs. Once past the fields the trees of the city begin. They are close together there. Once the fire starts and spreads there will be nothing to stop it.”

“Is there any dry wood to be found there?” Herilak asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then we will search for it now, take it with us.”

“Wait until we have reached the fields to the west of the city. The wood can be collected then, everything made ready. We want to get through the outer barrier around sunset. All of the Yilanè, other than the guards in their outposts, will have returned to the city by then so we will not be seen. We will avoid the guards and reach the place where the trees begin by dark. Then we will start our fires.”

All three ruutsa were grazing quietly when they left, their battle forgotten.

It was late afternoon before they had worked their way around the outermost fields. None of the game trails seemed to go in the right direction, so they had to force their way through the groves of trees and thick, tangled undergrowth. When they came to a sluggish stream Kerrick called a halt, then passed the word for them to gather together. The water ran clear towards the center of the stream so they waded out there to drink. When they had drunk their fill Kerrick told them what was to be done, stopping often to translate his orders to the Sasku. They all listened with grim attention for this was journey’s end. Victory or certain death.

They listened intently, not noticing while he was talking that the sky was clouding over. Kerrick broke off as a few drops of rain struck his skin.

Herilak looked up at the sky and scowled. “If it rains then we cannot attack—for the city will not burn.”

“It is still the dry season,” Kerrick said, with more assurance than he felt. “This won’t last.” He did not dare consider what they would do if it did rain.

They spread out to find dry wood, glancing apprehensively at the sky as they went. It stayed dark and the wind increased; thunder rumbled on the horizon.

“We cannot wait until evening,” Herilak said. “We must start the fires before it rains.”

“There will be murgu about, we may be seen.”

“A risk we will have to take. Help me prepare a way through the thorn barrier while the others find wood.”

They tore thick branches from the trees and pressed them down over the tangled and poisonous vines. In the open field beyond great duck-billed creatures looked at them with widened eyes, before they bounded away. Herilak trampled down the branches and crossed first, waving the others after him as they came back with the dry wood.