I was on the right, and saw as the banners of my father and two of his brothers rode out to the north, cantering as fast as they could without winding their mounts. The banners of three Minghaans waited still at the center, prepared to meet the real enemy push, a second jab aimed at our center but coming from the flanks or the rear.A call rang out from the left, “I see dust!”I wheeled Bitter and crossed the camp’s width, taking note that Eldrim was now putting out the fires and gathering all the pots into a bundle when he should’ve been on a mount with weapons drawn.The call had been right, there was dust to our left, and they surely numbered more than the forty of our band, but less than a hundred. Likely younglings themselves, sent to test the perimeter or to sow panic and draw undue attention.Humara sounded his horn; one shrill, long note. It told the Tumen and his Minghaans we expected a fight, but it was not a call for help, not yet.We lined up, forty men and horses each standing. He began to wonder if she had been there longer than advertised. The more he thought about it, the more suspicious he became, until he finally knocked off early and headed home to check the video from the day before.Upon getting home and firing up the video, he found that Amanda had, indeed, arrived far earlier than he thought. She came inside and almost immediately she and Cris started bickering with each other. His dad knew Cris had tried to get into her pants before, and she had refused him, and then teased him about it, leading to considerable frustration for him. This seemed to surface early, and he was somewhat standoffish to her. Amanda's concern seemed to be that the practice session wouldn't be real enough, and she would be embarrassed doing it in front of Cris's parents."Well, why don't we just practice it now, before they get here?" Cris said. "That way, we can be real about it. We won't even have to simulate the clothing. I'll have fun yanking the pants off you." Amanda.
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