It was said that to end a war quickly, one had only to lose. By that measure, at least the hell he was in wouldn't last much longer. Janto squinted, searching for a telltale shimmer in the air. There it was. Good. The invisibility shroud still covered his men.
"Volley!" cried one of the soldiers.
Incoming arrows soared up from the chasm, too far forward this time. They would miss. Still, no sense taking chances. His men took cover behind their shields, and he ducked behind his own, a pavise large enough to cover his entire body. Ahead of him on the mountain path, arrows smacked like hailstones against the cliff face and rebounded, spinning, into the chasm below.
A few strays clattered in late, and then there was silence. After a moment, Janto and his soldiers emerged from behind their shields and resumed marching on the narrow cliff ledge. With luck, they would cover some distance before the next volley. He was proud of them, his motley assortment of bel-caste and ur-caste men. Normally the castes did not mix, but the war and his people's dwindling numbers had necessitated change. Progress. He sniffed at the irony.
Irony. It was their nightly meal these days. Janto had been trying to lose the war so he could eat something other than irony, but the damn castes had turned it into a war of pride. Each caste was determined that they would not be the cause of losing, so his motley crew, which should have killed each other weeks ago, had become a well-oiled war machine and his biggest fear was about to be realized: Janto might win the war. It just wasn't fair.
Opening: Amy.....Continuation: Bibi