A proper newsmeet required the sharing of food, but the only food the Beltharans had on them at the time were some cold meat cooked over the previous night’s campfire, a couple of blowfish Pars had speared that morning as they were waiting to move out and a handful of hazelnuts Grey had picked from a clump of bushes they’d passed a couple of hours earlier. Fortunately the lizard men seemed happy to provide the bulk of the food. Most of it was raw meat, but Chester and Grey soon had a fire burning and were cooking the skinned tail of a crocodile over it, making their mouths water as fats dripped into the flames.

     As the visitors, custom demanded that the Beltharans spoke first, and so Gallit spent half an hour telling their hosts how they came to be passing through their land. He spent a few minutes telling them how things were in Ilandia and the Overgrown forest but could tell that the lizard men had no interest in these things and so he moved on to their mission into the Shadow and their belief that another war was coming.

     The swamp’s dwellers looked up at this, but again they didn’t seem overly concerned. “Even though we live sso close to the ssshadow, they will not ‘ome this way,” said the one that seemed to be the most senior. “They will go wesst, into your lands, as they did in the ‘revious wars. Thiss need not concern uss.”

     “So long as Belthar stands, you are right,” replied the Sergeant. “Nevertheless, you should know how things stand in our lands, in case you ever need to pass through them.”

     The lizard men opened their jaws wide and the Beltharans tensed up in alarm, but the swamp dwellers just glanced at each other before continuing to eat and Drake wondered if it had been the lizard man equivalent to laughter. “None of our race hass left this swamp in the ‘emory of anyone sstill alive.” the leader replied. “Your ‘eople would hunt usss and kill usss. We will sstay here, in our own lands, as we have done ssince the ‘eginning.”

     The lizard men then told their side of the newsmeet. They said that they had been living peacefully for many generations, living in harmony with the swamp and rejecting the violent, warlike lifestyles followed by most of the rest of their race. They needed to fight now and then, of course, to defend themselves against the various large predators that inhabited the swamp, but since they were just mindless animals they didn't cause too many problems and were easily driven away. The pakin-kho, though, were different. At least as intelligent as the lizard men, possessing a highly organised civilization, being skilled fighters and thoroughly evil, they had overwhelmed the lizard men defenders and captured all their villages, threatening to destroy them if they continued to resist. Having no choice, therefore, the peace loving lizard men had capitulated.

     The pakin-kho had then stated their terms. They would spare the lizard men and their reed communities on the condition that they provide them with a substance they wanted, a resin extracted from a rare species of bulrush that grew in abundance in the area. The lizard men had agreed, thinking that this was a small price to pay for peace, until they learned how much of the resin the pakin-kho wanted, twenty pounds a month. The lizard men were aghast, protesting that there was no way they could possibly produce that much, and that even if they could, they would soon use up all the bulrushes in the area. The pakin-kho were adamant, though. Fill the order or die, they had said. The choice is yours, and they had set fire to one of their reed villages to make the point. Still protesting, therefore, the lizard men had given in and promised to have the resin ready for delivery when the pakin-kho returned.

     The pakin-kho couldn't stay and occupy the reed villages, since there was a limit to how long they could stay out of the water, so they had returned to their undersea cities in Great Lake Megra, hoping that their threats and the demonstration of their strength would be enough to keep the lizard men in line. They'd stated that they would be back in a month's time, however, and that if the resin wasn't ready for delivery, they would wipe the lizard men out.

     For the next six weeks, therefore, the lizard men had laboured as they had never laboured before, harvesting the special variety of bulrush, boiling it up in specially made vats and distilling the resin out of the sap, so that when the pakin-kho returned, thirty six days later, they had just barely managed to reach their target. The pakin-kho had taken the resin without comment, and said that they would be back a month later for the next delivery.

     And so it had been for the past five years. With the bulrush being harvested faster than it could grow, however, it had started to become scarce and they had worried that soon they would be unable to fulfil the order. After a lot of soul searching and fierce debates, therefore, they had decided to rebel, and the next time the small force of pakin-kho had come to collect their resin, they had attacked and killed them.

     Ten days later, an army of a thousand pakin-kho had arrived to punish the lizard men for their rebellion. They killed dozens of them, destroyed five more of their villages and raised their demand to twenty five pounds of resin for the next time they came. The lizard men, crushed and defeated, had had no choice but to agree, and by a heroic effort had just barely managed to complete the order, but they knew they couldn't keep it up for long. Even more so than before, it was only a matter of time before they were unable to fulfil an order.

     They'd considered moving to another part of the swamp, but that would bring them into conflict with the other lizard men communities who lived there, normal aggressive lizard men who saw the pacifistic lizard men as weak fools who deserved everything the pakin-kho were giving them and who should on no account be allowed to mingle with them. They'd even considered leaving the Blackwater Marshes altogether. After all, there were other swamps in the world, some so large that they made the Blackwater Marshes look like a dirty puddle. The trouble was that they were all, with one exception, thousands of miles away, and the one exception, the Tzeentra Marshes, were on the other side of the Ghost Ocean, and so might as well have been on one of the moons. In the end, they'd been forced to the conclusion that there was nowhere to go. It seemed that they were doomed to extinction, and so began to make preparations for one last, final act of defiance.

     They'd sent a delegation to the human kingdom of Calmany, to the south, which had also had the occasional spot of trouble with the pakin-kho. They'd taken with them everything they had that the humans might find valuable and used it to buy as many weapons as they could, mainly swords and pikes. No ‘reputable' human businessman would even consider selling weapons to lizard men who, as everyone knew, were vile, evil creatures who would slaughter the lot of them if they had half a chance. Fortunately, though, there were plenty of less reputable merchants who would sell anything to anyone for a fast profit, and from them they'd been able to buy just over a hundred rather poor quality weapons for over three times what they were worth. Taking them home, the lizard men had then prepared for a futile, but glorious, last stand.

     As the lizard man was talking, a strange feeling was coming over Drake. A feeling of restlessness and guilt, as if he was neglecting some vitally important duty. He recognised the feeling, it was the same feeling he’d had in Eastglade, the feeling that had driven him to accompany the scouts to spy out the sholog camp. Samnos wanted him to stay and help the lizard men. For the first time in his life Drake felt conflicted. His clear duty was to return to Ilandia and play his part in its defence when the Shadowarmies attacked. He had no right to abandon that duty for some utterly irrelevant conflict in some Gods forsaken swamp that didn’t affect humans in any way. He knew that, but the feeling of restlessness grew stronger as his God increased the pressure. Drake sighed, knowing that his duty to Samnos was more important than his duty to Belthar, and as soon as he acknowledged it the feeling vanished, leaving him settled and at ease once more. “Thy will be done,” he whispered to himself.

     He took a moment to take a breath, knowing exactly how the others would react to his decision. “You will not face them alone,” he told the lizard men. “I will stay and help you fight them.”

     As expected, Gallit almost exploded. “You’ll what!” The lizard men were equally surprised, jumping to their feet and staring down at him, while the other humans could only stare in astonishment.

     "I am a priest of Samnos, the God of the righteous struggle against evil. It is my duty to fight the forces of evil and protect the innocent, no matter whether they're human or any other race. That means it's my duty to help these people fight the pakin-kho."

     "Have you ever fought pakin-kho?" asked the ranger incredulously. "They're not some ragged band of monsters. They fight as an army, organised and intelligent. They fight set piece battles, planned beforehand. They're led by tacticians as brilliant as those leading the armies of Belthar. Just what do you expect to accomplish except get yourself killed?"

     “Plus,” added Gallit. He looked around at the lizard men and guided the other human a few paces further away from them. “Plus,” he continued in a hushed tone. “We don’t know who the bad guys are here. These lizard men may have provoked the gill men, it wouldn’t surprise me considering what I’ve heard of these creatures. They raid human communities, steal what they want, kill anyone who gets in their way. They probably started the trouble with the gill men.”

     “I don’t think so,” replied Drake, though. “The followers of any of the true Gods can get a sense of whether people they meet are good or evil. The sense I get of these crea… these people is that they’re basically good. I believe what you say about lizard men, I’ve heard the same stories, but these individuals are not typical of their race. I believe that they’re the victims in this situation, and, that being the case, I must do whatever I can to help them. If it is my Lord's will that the beasts kill me, then so be it. These people need me. I will not fail them.”

     "May I remind you," interrupted Gallit, "that it is our sworn duty as Beltharan soldiers to report back to our units in Fort Battleaxe? If we don't, we're deserters and will be executed when we're caught. No man of mine has ever deserted. I would skin alive any man who tried, and if you're trying to talk me into it then you're a bloody traitor and I'll kill you with my own hands! I'd sooner die than disgrace my regiment that way!"

     "It's your duty to go back, of course, and you must do so. My first loyalty, however, is to my God, and I would be deserting Him if I didn't do all I could to help these people. The Emperor recognises that we priests cannot swear undivided loyalty to him, and so he does not require us to. I will report back when the pakin-kho have been dealt with, not before."

     "Then you will never report back," said Pars bluntly.

     "Quite possibly," said Drake. "But you shouldn't write me off so quickly. My Lord is with me. Have faith and fear not." He turned to the lizard man, who had listened to the exchange with growing disbelief. "Will you let my friends pass through your land if I stay and help you fight the pakin-kho?"

     “The karderan ‘ussst decide. You talk to the karderan, he will decide.”

     “Very well,” said the priest. “Take us to him.”

☆☆☆

     The lizard men wouldn't let them pass immediately, but made them wait while one of them went south and brought back eight more lizard men to accompany them. They then had to wait until nightfall, in case there were any pakin-kho spies in the vicinity, a distinct possibility, and when the thirteen of them finally set off, the lizard men insisted that they wade through the swamp instead of using the ridge, on which they would be far too visible. It was tough going, but with a lizard man to help each of the humans they were able to make pretty good progress.

     "Just how much help do you think you're going to be if you can't even move through the swamp on your own?" asked the ranger acidly as they went. "Imagine trying to swing a sword in this muck." He swept up a handful of smelly mud to make his point. "If you insist on involving yourself, you'll be more of a hindrance to them than a help."

     "I will find a way," said Drake confidently. "My Lord will show me a way."

     "He's right, you bloody fool," said Gallit. "This is no place for humans. Come on home with us."

     "I'm sorry, Sergeant, but I can't," insisted Drake. "I must do whatever I can. It's my duty. Wherever there are people who need the help of Samnos, I must be there in His name. If I die, I will go to Samnos, and fight at His side for the rest of eternity. The only thing to fear is that I will fail in my duty, in which case My Lord will turn His back on me. Please try to understand."

     "We understand lad," said Gallit sadly, "but try to see it from our point of view. We're going to have to explain to Resalintas why you didn't come back with us."

     Drake grinned despite himself. "I'm sorry," he said, "but don't worry, he'll understand. He's done this kind of thing himself many times, he told me so himself. It's the same with all priests of Samnos. There's no knowing when Our Lord will call us to our duty."

     "If that's your final word, then I suppose we'll just have to wish you some bloody luck." Gallit sighed. "Humans fighting in swamps, though, fighting creatures that've studied swamp warfare for thousands of years... You remember Framus’s war?"

     Drake nodded. The attempt by the Agglemonian Emperor Tar Framus to conquer the marshlands of Haggor were required teaching in the church of Samnos. Despite outnumbering the marshlanders by twenty to one and having far superior weapons and equipment, the Agglemonians had been gradually worn down by ten years of vicious guerilla warfare until the exhausted, battle fatigued remnants of the once mighty army had finally been forced to withdraw. Ever since then, Framus’s war had been used as a warning against trying to fight a war in an environment your enemy was more familiar with then you, whether that be swamp, desert, forest or the mountains. Gallit was right, Drake knew, but he was counting on the fact that the lizard men were as familiar with swamp fighting as the pakin kho. He didn't intend to fight the war for them, just to help them.

     They stopped talking as they saw a lizard man community ahead of them. It consisted entirely of dried reeds and rushes, woven and matted together in skillful and artistic ways to produce structures as sturdy and strong as wood. The base of the whole thing was a floating platform of reed mats, piled one on top of another to form a structure nearly three feet thick and over a hundred yards across, roughly circular but with a straight edge where it was moored to the ridge. On it were between fifty and sixty reed buildings, circular with a conical roof. A few larger buildings were scattered here and there, probably storehouses and meeting halls, and in the centre was a large rectangular building with a tall spire at one end and a tall, wide door at the other, a combination temple and town hall by the look of it. Drake resolved to take a closer look at it and see what God they worshipped.

     Lizard men thronged all around the village. Presumably about half of them were female, but it was impossible for a human to tell the sexes apart. Some were weaving reeds into mats for construction purposes while others were gutting and cleaning swamp animals to eat, but most of them, including large numbers of smaller individuals who must have been children, were making resin. Pounding bulrush stems with rocks, softening them up before cutting them up into small pieces and placing them in large vats of water to be boiled up. Others were skimming a layer of scum from the surface of the cold water in other vats and carefully placing it in clay pots, while others were unloading fresh bulrush stems from large woven reed rafts.

     On the other side of the village, Drake saw lizard men carrying the clay pots into a building made of hard packed mud. A chimney rose from the building’s roof from which a curl of white smoke rose, suggesting that whatever they’d extracted from the bulrush stems was undergoing further refinement and distillation. At least two thirds of the population of the village was engaged in its production, a desperate effort to meet the Pakin-kho’s demand and postpone the final showdown for one more month.

     Their escort paused a moment while they were still out of sight of the village and searched for something, relaxing when they saw it. "No flag flying on the sspire," said one of them. "'Eanss no fisss sssoldiers around. Good.” He led the humans into the village, and a crowd of lizard men gathered around them, tongues flickering in and out as they stared curiously with their yellow, unblinking eyes. The humans kept their hands near their weapons, but their escort snapped out a few barking words and the crowd pulled back, glancing at each other in confusion.

     They were led to the large building in the centre of the village, where the leader of their escort spoke to a pair of lizard men on guard duty, and one of them went inside to confer with his superiors. A moment later he returned, and the humans were led in.

     The karderan, the leader of the lizard men, was almost twice the size of any of the others and had a much larger and brighter coloured crest behind his head, augmented by a headpiece of bright feathers. He (or possibly she, Drake couldn’t tell) also wore a necklace of pearl beetle shells, shimmering in rainbow colours in the light of the oil lamps that lit the throne room, and held a staff in one hand, tipped with a point made of what looked like sharpened turtle shell. Drake waited patiently while the leader of his escort explained the situation in their own language, and the huge lizard man studied the humans with suspicion and what the priest thought was a little uncertainty. He then stared at them for several minutes, as if considering the escort’s words. “You would co'e to our aid?” he asked at last. “Hel' uss in a fight that iss nothing to do with you? Why would you do thiss? Why would a hu'an be interessted in the trou'less of the lizard ‘en?”

     "I am a priest of Samnos," replied Drake, "A servant of the God of the fight against oppression and tyranny, so this trouble of yours does interest me, as do all the troubles of the world. I would come to the aid of anyone in your position, regardless of their species and outward appearance."

     The karderan would have smiled, if he'd had the face for it. "If you involve yoursself in our trou'lss, you will ‘e killed. It iss ‘ad enough that ‘y ‘eople are a'out to die without any outssiderss ssharing our fate. Go on your way, hu'an, and forget a'out uss."

     "I can't do that," said Drake, however. "Samnos will not let me. If you refuse to let me fight with you, then I will go and challenge the pakin-kho alone."

     The karderan looked into the priest's eyes and saw the truth of what he was saying. His jaws opened wide in a lizard man laugh. "Very well, hu'an, you sshall fight with uss. The aid of the God of War would ‘e welco'e indeed, and who knowss, with hiss hel', we ‘ay even win."

     "We will win," said Drake confidently. "I understand that you are a peaceloving people, unlike the vast majority of your race, so the problem very probably is that you have simply forgotten how to fight. The instincts are Probably still there, though, and I can help you to rediscover them. When the pakin-kho return, we will drive them back into the sea, forever."

     "Yess!" said the karderan excitedly. "We will desstroy the', ‘ake the' rue the day they firsst decided to trouble uss! Death to the Fissh sssoldiers!"

     The other lizard men in the room echoed the cry, which rang out over the whole village, making the inhabitants look up blinking in astonishment, wondering what all the fuss was about. Drake shouted and waved his arms to get their attention.

      "The important thing is to keep all this as quiet as possible," he said. "It will take time to teach your warriors even the most basic techniques, several weeks probably, and in that time the pakin-kho must get no hint of what we're up to. If they do, they'll attack before we're ready and wipe us out. Do you understand?"

     "We undersstand," said the karderan. "We all go to ssecret ‘lace to ‘ractice, where no fissh sssoldiers ssee uss. We build you ssecret hut, away fro' our citiess, where fissh sssoldiers never go, and where our warriorss co'e to you every day for you to teach. Then, when all our warriorss are good fighterss, we attack fissh sssoldiers next ti'e they co'e and wi'e the' out!"

     The other lizard men cheered enthusiastically at this, waving their tails excitedly, and Drake agreed to the plan with satisfaction. It would work, he was sure of it. After one good defeat, the pakin-kho would think twice about coming back and would go off to find easier victims. It would take time to train the lizard men, but it would be time well spent. The forces of evil would be driven out of one more corner of the world, and the ultimate triumph of good would be that much nearer.