"Right, men." Bleeding from both hips, wet, bedraggled and alone, Melcorka, her leine in rags, did not look impressive as she addressed the small group of survivors who cowered in a small bowl of the hills. "I need your help."
leineThe survivors looked up. "You said you were going to destroy the broch and get us all home," one man accused. He looked away again, having used up his small store of courage in thus addressing her.
"I was, and I am," Melcorka said. "Our first attempt did not go according to plan, so we"ll try again. That is why I need your help."
Some moved away, one or two looked interested, and only one man stood up. "What do you want us to do?"
"What is your name?" Melcorka had noticed this man before. He was about thirty and had walked slightly apart from the others, wit
