Zurian paced up and down outside the infirmary. Viglar had constructed a see-through isolation booth to do the operation, to protect her from infection. Hours had passed and still Viglar worked on Julia. With her head shaved, lying on the slab, with Viglar's hulking figure working on her, she looked so tiny. Weak, the instinct inside him insisted.
Zacar walked up to Zurian, in armored clothing, with two swords and several knives strapped to his body. "The warriors have arrived."
Zurian could hear their boots stomping on the cave floor. They'd been arriving for two hours now. Only one warrior was ordered to stay behind on the ship.
"I cannot leave her."
Zacar clasped his shoulder for a moment. "You would not have honor if you could leave her, brother."
Zurian nodded and saw Azagor checking each warrior's equipment with his monitor. "Do we know why the equipment is malfunctioning?" Never in their great history of conquest have they had to deal with faulty equipment.