Jonar smiled and leaned back against a rock. "I have spies where no one would think to look. It is not easy, but I can get a few of these from time to time. Privilege of rank and all that."

The air temperature dropped. As they cooked the birds over their fire, Jonar leaned forward, as if to tell them a secret.

"In the valley below, we will find the key to our victory. Tomorrow, we meet our allies, the Flarg goblins. They have sent-

Lavash nearly dropped his chicken into the fire, he was so startled.

"Goblins?" he barked out. "What the hell are we going to do with them? We orcs have been much maligned in the past, but that's nothing compared to the goblins!"

Jonar held up a hand, silencing the chieftain.

"Balesh Pass holds many horrors for me, as you well know. I would not brave the elements, the mountain, and the sights I must bear tomorrow were I not absolutely convinced of this fact-we need the goblins. Without them we will be ridden down and slaughtered by the knights from the plains. "

The other two stared at him with disbelief, their prejudices showing on their faces.

"We won't fight with goblins, " Jel said flatly. Lavash nodded solemnly beside him.

Jonar sat silently for a few moments without movement. Finally, he leaned forward toward his two chieftains. He spoke in a calm, even tone that frightened the two orcs far more than any yelling ever could.

"You will fight with the goblins. Not only that, you will convince your warriors that the goblins are our salvation. Do I make myself clear?" Jonar did not mention that it was the mage who insisted that the Flarg goblins were to be their allies.

It was Jel and Lavash's turn to sit in silence for a few moments. Finally, Jel looked over at Lavash. Their general was clearly not in the mood for discussion.

"As always, we will do as you command," Lavash said, looking down.

"That is not good enough," Jonar returned, his eyes gleaming with the passion of his words. "You must believe it. Trust me-with the help of these goblins I will deliver a victory that we could not achieve otherwise."

The fabulous chicken feast finished silently. Each orc reflected on the others' words. Finally, they retreated to the tent to await the morning.

A mild snow fell in the early hours before sunrise, but it only covered the tent with a light dusting. It took mere minutes to pack up and begin the descent into Balesh Pass.

Two hours later, the three orcs came to the site of the battle. Even after three months the area looked haunted and forsaken. Broken spears stuck out of the fresh snow at odd angles. Boulders were scarred by blasts from the magic unleashed at the battle.

Jonar walked along a low ridge that had served as his last stand as his routed forces had rushed past him, out over the pass and back to Balduvia. His thoughts turned back to the battle, and for a moment his eyes were there, watching.

He could see the long lines of orcs, standing in ranks six deep, swords, spears, and shields ready for the oncoming Kjeldoran infantry. On the enemy came. The Kjeldoran regiment closed to within a hundred yards, and then suddenly it changed formation. From the rear, pikes were brought forward, and the line shifted from a square with the flat facing the orcs to a diamond with the point threatening them. The point advanced.

Jonar did not know what to do. He knew the pointed formation had a far greater reach with pikes, and that it would split his line in two like a knife through butter. He watched in horror as his prediction came true. Jonar tried to plug the line with his own bodyguard of fifty warriors, but they could not hold long. Their fight gave the rest of the line enough time to retreat, however.

Over and over he replayed the moment in his mind. Should he have pulled back? Should he have enveloped? He ran the battle through his mind.

Without warning, an animal-skin-covered green goblin rose from the snow not ten yards in front of Jonar. His reverie ended in a flash. Without thinking, he drew his sword, an instinctive reaction from too many years in the martial profession.

The goblin eyed him warily. "You big general boss man?"

Jonar calmed himself and re-sheathed his weapon. He turned and the other two orcs did the same.

"You speak Orcish very well for a goblin. I am General Jonar. Who are you?"

"Me Tramas, Clan Champion for goblins of the Flarg mountains. Your mage promise us much to fight with you. We much need this victory, but we much need payment as promised." The goblin's eyes shrank to slits. "You bring?"

Jonar reached inside his jerkin and brought forth a small leather pouch. He tossed it to the goblin. It hit the ground and sank slightly in the snow. Tramas picked up the pouch, dusted it off, and looked inside. His eyes went wide. He pulled a diamond the size of his little fist from the pouch.

With a practiced eye, he turned it over and over, inspecting every facet. Finally, he put the diamond back in the pouch and dropped it in his own pocket.

Jonar took a step forward.

"Let me introduce my field commanders. This is Lavash and Jel, my brave and faithful associates."

The two stepped forward, bowed slightly. Jonar was impressed with the level of respect they showed.

Tramas nodded in acknowledgement and motioned with his right arm. Around the orcs, hundreds of goblins rose from the snow where before there had been none. The three orcs stood in awe. None had seen any hint of an entire unit of goblins, let alone right at their feet.

"I am impressed, Tramas," Jonar said. "Very impressed. I have never seen goblins that could… well, er, you see… I hope I'm not rude in saying…"

Tramas lifted his hand to stop the general. "You never seen goblins looked like they could fight. Me right, General?"

Again, Jonar was impressed. "Right," he answered.

"Goblin King know this. Goblins sent to fight so far just buy time. Many other goblins, many train for war. We now ready for war. What you think? Goblins only play Cricket?"

"No, no," Jonar backpedaled. "I think you'll do just fine." He swallowed his pride. "You will meet us at Mount Delapre four days hence. Will you be there?" Jonar's eyes bore into the goblin champion.

The goblin returned a bow just as the orcs had done. "We be there. You remember rest of payment," he said.

Jonar nodded, turned and walked back the way he had come. Jel and Lavash followed.

The march to Mount Delapre took another two days after Jonar and the two chieftains returned to camp. The orcs moved slowly through the freshly fallen snow in the high pass, pulling their carts full of provisions along after them. The line stretched out for nearly a mile as the four thousand orc warriors and attendant families trodded on.

Jonar went to each of the clans to tour the troops, show them that their leader was ready to fight. He found soldiers tired from the march but otherwise in good spirits. They needed to win, to show that they were not disgraced as they had been at Balesh Pass. They needed to prove themselves. Jonar could understand their feelings.

The disfavor shown to orcs in Balduvia had been a great blow to orc forces everywhere. The clans had fallen in stature and were falling on hard times as the war went on. They could use a victory.

Jonar was surprised to hear the soldiers talk of the goblins. A few hardened veterans sneered at the thought of fighting with the diminutive grunts, but many had heard the story that their clan chieftains had brought back. Clearly several were in awe at the way the goblins could sneak up on an army and ambush it. A few even boasted that they had seen the goblin king at the battle of Narmund Forest and that he was a sight to behold.