Mountain Skirmish II

"At your command, Chief!"

Uman, the personal guard, nodded, a ruthless look surfacing on his face as well.

"Tonight I'll personally lead the men and give those Otomi Mongrels a proper killing!"

"Haha! Good! A brave warrior should fear nothing!"

Chichica burst out laughing. He stretched out his fist and thumped Uman hard on the chest. Then the Red Dog chief's expression turned cold as he looked toward the forest where the slaughter had died down.

"Uman, cut off the heads of the several hundred dead Otomi warriors! Pile the heads outside the next camp. If the Otomi People come out for revenge, we'll hunt them again!"

"At your command, Chief!"

Uman nodded again and again. Then he raised a hand and pointed to the central main camp, where a bird banner flew. Hundreds of archers were stationed inside the camp, and some warriors still held longbows.

"Chief, why not pile the heads right outside the Otomi leader's camp! If he keeps hiding like a turtle, the Mongrels' morale will be finished!"

At that, Chichica narrowed his eyes and gazed for a while at the sturdy Otomi main camp.

"Fine. Take three hundred Red-hair Tribe men who are good shots and get it done!"

"At your command, Chief!"

Excitement showed on Uman's face, and he strode away. Soon, the deathly still forest grew noisy again. Hundreds of Dog-kin carried dripping heads, formed a loose line, and surged to a spot just over a hundred paces outside the main camp. They brazenly hurled abuse into the camp, then piled the heads on the soft earth, crimson soaking through the mud.

Beneath the Bird Banner, Giova clenched his fists, watching the provocative Dog-kin outside the camp, rage blazing in his chest.

"Damned Guachichil Dog-kin! Damned Red Dog chief! Damn it!"

Giova struck