Twenty eight djinn made a rough semicircle, surrounding Harabi. Four, including Soha and Harabi, dressed in brilliant blues and reds, of a plain if well-woven fabric. Six wore identical green robes, the material glinting in the evening light. Three were dressed in white shirts and pants, the shirts covered with small intricate patches, each unique. Five wore yellow and green, in different styles. Five wore only skirts, brown and heavy, with bronze loops forming a lattice across them. The last six were dressed in an odd assortment of colors and styles, grouped only in that they stood together.

"Senche, you'll take your loop-bound and secure the southern road; nobody is to get by you. Makke, you are to secure the north. Vesle and Amin, circle around and secure the far side. Erzeman, you're with my people, we'll be going down the center.

"Assume any not following the perimeter or heading into the outpost are hostile, our people have their orders. Makke, Vesle, Amin, each of you are to have one person patrol the perimeter. Clockwise, let's make things simple. There shouldn't be any loop-bound here, but intelligence is always faulty; if the fight takes more than one strike, disengage and get two more. No dueling, fight only at advantage.

"We'll be taking the central road; the loop-bound will be in front, disrupting any defensive formations they may raise. The main djinn army will be behind us. No prisoners here, and remember that nobody you see won't be held under geis. There are no friendly faces here, only enemies."

The semicircle of djinn - of loop-bound - was quiet, a few nodding, most looking ... bored. Soha wasn't entirely certain that interpretation was correct, but the group definitely didn't seem excited, or even concerned, about the upcoming fighting.

They were striking the farthest outpost of the peri, and while it was certain the peri knew they were coming - it was hard to hide the thousands approaching - they also didn't want any messengers escaping. The loop-bound would form an encircling perimeter, while the army drove the peri out of the stockaded post. Information that had been covered in the meeting Harabi had had with the djinn in charge of the army as a whole, Setareh.

Setareh had been rather more, well, ordinary than Soha had expected. Older, skin wrinkled and a pale red that was nearly pink, dressed in white, with an assortment of badges scattered over the shirt stitched with finely-wrought symbols that Soha didn't recognize. Setareh had also been angry, either by disposition or by events, no words coming out in less than a shout.

This was the basic plan Setareh had outlined, albeit more specific; Harabi was in charge of giving the instructions to the other loop-bound, by, as far as Soha could ascertain, a combination of seniority, and, apparently, virtue of having been taught war by one of Setareh's now-passed loop-bound.

In the course of those conversations, Soha had learned the name of the community that Soha was a part of - Westglade. It wasn't something that had come up in conversation before, and Soha learned it, because Setareh apparently wanted Harabi to leave Westglade and join Central - it wasn't clear if that was the name of the community Setareh was based in, or Setareh's personal retinue, but Harabi had politely demurred, without giving a clear answer.

Soha was brought back out of the contemplations of the past hour by Hvare, who gently prodded Soha's arm.

"It's time."

A line of armored figures waited for them, bronze gleaming in the dimming light of evening, the sun behind the djinn. A row of bronze shields, helmets above them, with hints of faint blue and green membranes rising above both behind each shield.

They were tall, and even considering the armor, thin. The line was seventy or eighty across - Soha counted by fives, but quickly lost the place of it - and of an uncertain depth, but at least three. They were motionless, still as statues, even as the djinn formed their own, considerably less organized battle lines behind the seven loop-bound standing in front.

If they spoke, or even shouted, it couldn't be heard over the rattle of metal, the stamping of feet, and the steady roar of voices behind Soha. Soha's eyes shifted left and right, from Hvare to Mehr - Harabi stood in the center of their small formation, to the right in turn of Mehr. Soha also saw the djinn battle lines - far vaster and deeper than the small force arrayed before them.

The noise quieted somewhat, the stamp of feet fading. The peri just stood there, waiting. The loop-bound around Soha swept forward, and Soha moved a fraction of a second behind them, spears lowering as they closed the distance in a run.

Soha's spear shattered, blood sprayed. A sword flashed; Soha felt a breeze, a strip of cloth fluttering where the blade had impacted. Soha spun, thrusting instinctively, the shattered haft sliding across armor and sending a body tumbling back into others.

The air was a humming roar of shouts, clashing metal, cracking bodies. Soha dodged a blow, crashed into someone who tumbled backwards. The training at dueling was useless here.

A sword; Soha grabbed it and swung. Sword and shield both shattered, fragments flying. A mist of blood filled the air. Something heavy impacted Soha's side; whatever it was gave with a crunch. Soha grabbed a shield, smashed it into a peri helmet as Soha moved past - nothing in training covered this.

And suddenly Soha's forward momentum left the press of bodies; turning, the rest of the army was there, a tight line walking over the bodies, spears methodically stabbing down, the motions rigid and sudden, like a centipede walking sideways.

Soha turned back towards the outpost - no, village, that was the word. There were too many buildings here. And people. No, peri.

They were ... odd. Light brown, almost pink skinned, with myriad silver threads - hair, Soha vaguely remembered - sprouting from their scalps, swept back and tied in bright green bows. They had ... wings, blue and gray and faintly translucent in the sun, like butterflies. They were dressed in flowing blue and green gowns, and were moving quickly through the village, shouting, screaming, gathering belongings.

The buildings were tall - two or three floors, with odd openings in the walls opening the interior to the exterior. They also opened to the outside, each and every one, instead of forming a continuous whole like the community - like Westglade, Soha mentally corrected. There were many communities, it was important that they had names.

A tall peri grabbed a short one - a child? - wings spreading, and leapt into the air - a whistling sound flew over Soha's head, arrows spreading across both bodies, which tumbled to the ground. The taller one jerked and twitched, clutching at the smaller, and grew still, blood spreading in a pool on the sand.

The army spread out, moving quickly - some peri took flight, caught quickly by arrows, or less frequently, fireballs. Those who didn't fly were surrounded and speared from multiple sides. Pain overcame panic in the screams.

Djinn kicked down doors, moving into buildings. More screams. They were lit on fire as they progressed, djinn leaving the buildings with arms full of supplies - food, weapons, armor. Some carried odd trinkets.

The army moved through the village quickly, Soha walking slowly behind Harabi and Hvare, watching the flurry of activity going on around, when a series of djinn voices raised in shouts. Soha followed the two loop-bound as they moved into a sprint, chasing the shouts.

Around a corner, and there was - a large building, full of djinn, dressed in the blue and green clothing of the peri. They were working the fields, expressions screwed up in panic as the djinn approached - but they didn't stop their work, pulled large contraptions across the ground, dirt furrowing up behind them.

As a djinn soldier got close to a pair pulling one of the contraptions, the pair, shouting in fear, picked the object up between them, and smashed it into the soldier with a crack. The soldier, who had barely had time to raise hands, crumpled underneath it, limp, blood pooling from the metal blade, previously digging the earth, now embedded through the djinn soldier's chest.

Harabi and Hvare continued forward, the soldiers in front of them now moving quickly to spear down the two; other farmers were now moving towards them, faces twisted into masks of fear, grief, pain.

Another contingent of djinn came around the far corner of another building, lead by the elderly Sevareh, with the loop-bound Erzeman following behind. They were dressed in white. More djinn followed, as the peri screams behind slowly died away with their owners.

"They are geis-bound. Kill them, they are not free, and never will be." Harabi's voice called out. Fan came around the next corner, spear and face covered in blood, Sidou closely behind. Sidou's spear was broken, and blood spattered the shield carried in the other hand.

Soldiers moved forward again, raising their spears, looking at one another as the farmers moved forward. The farmers impaled themselves on the spears as they lunged at the soldiers, who stepped back at the ferocity of the quickly-dying assault.

"Hold firm, soldiers." Sevareh spoke now, calm and serene. "This is their rebellion against their geis, the last gesture they have of their freedom; they kill themselves. Be at peace, my people. Your deaths fulfill your duty."

One of the impaled djinn looked to Sevareh, face stricken. "T-the chil ... children. Ple-please." A cough, spraying the soldier holding the spear with blood; the soldier dropped the spear, and both weapon and body fell, the haft snapping under the weight. The dying djinn coughed, hacked, body jerking, before going still.

Sevareh's attention turned to the building, serene expression hardening. There was a pause, as the elderly djinn looked over the dying djinn. With a gesture, the soldiers who were not standing, staring with horrified expressions down, moved forward, spearing those who hadn't died yet.

Sevareh nodded when the last stopped moving. "A mercy, one of the few we can afford, that they die quickly and not know. Kill the children. Quickly and cleanly, they were once our people."