"You seem disappointed, master Amrhost," said Damond.
"Do I?" replied the northerner distantly. It came out sounding like an ironic statement.
"You think Lund to be so weak?" Damond challenged with asperity.
Amrhost glared back at him, and Damond almost flinched at the black hostility he saw there, and couldn't help but wonder at the source of such hatred. "I was not thinking about Lund."
"No? Then what were you thinking about?"
Staring at nothing for a moment, the northerner seemed as though he was not about to answer. But as Damond was about to resume his place, Amrhost spoke.
"There is no question, master Damond, but that Lund, and every other city thereafter, will fall when Morlock and the Demon King raise their hand against us. The plan has always been to resist and flee . . . ultimately, to survive. That is not good enough for me."
Shaking his head, Damond said, "Unless you have some grand plan to overthrow the enemy, such sentiments are useless."
"This is a very personal war," said Amrhost quietly. "It could very well be that the enemy's undoing may come from within their own homes, rather than from ours. If one could get close enough . . ."
Damond's words did not reflect what was in his mind. "You are mad."