Before the others could protest, she quickly stole off into the darkness.
So quiet was her approach that she made her way to some bushes a stone’s throw away from the figure by the fire. It was no effort to hear the man speak, for his voice was both loud and brash.
“... I say it is folly. Do not be fooled by his words. It is a waste. While we’re being tossed into the meat-grinder, you can rest assured that he and his precious wights will be sitting safe and pretty in the rear, eating well, and sleeping in tents.
“It is the northerners who are the weakest, with no natural barriers to protect them. They will fall easily. Why do we not march northwest with the rest of the army, instead of being sent on this fools’ errand?”
“He doesn’t trust you near your own kind, traitor,” came a harsh voice. There was guttural laughter.
The man drew his sword and moved to stand before the goblin who had spoken. He was now uncomfortably close to Éhal’s position.
“Watch your tongue, Kazuk,” the man said. “I serve no one, therefore I betray no one. It was I who mapped these lands that none of you knows the slightest about. And it is I who lead the vanguard. Do not affront me, or I will have your giblets thrown to the dogs.”