“You look frustrated,” Malia remarked blithely. She and Shanka lay on their bellies in the tall grass, watching Rastaban annoy the women of his village mid-chore as he tried to charm them.
“He’s just doing nothing,” Shanka replied. She remained utterly still, studying the scene with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t the Rastaban we know, the fierce general whose pride is as fiery as his lust. He wouldn’t lay down and play dead.”
“From what we’ve seen, he seems more than willing to just lay down,” Malia said.
Shanka gritted her teeth. “Where are the rest of his men hiding?”
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