“I see,” he said. “Keep us talking while your soldiers got into position, eh?” “No! I didn’t want that!” Borvorius’s eyes narrowed. He had not survived the many wars of his life by being a stupid man. “No,” he said, “maybe you didn’t. But it doesn’t matter. Listen to me, my innocent little priest. Sometimes there has to be a war. Things go too far for words. There’s . . . other forces. Now . . . go back to your people. Maybe we’ll both be alive when all this is over and then we can talk. Fight first, talk after. That’s how it works, boy. That’s history. Now, go back.” Brutha turned away.
