It is a clear day, and the men are eager. We are led by the Ubar of Tyros, who is called Galahad, in this war which begins now as words and quills, fall away from the hands of diplomats. Mighty Ar has sent her ships across Thassa, toward Cos, which lies north of Tyros. They sail upon waters claimed by Tyros, and in so doing violate what is deemed the sovereignty of Tyros and of the Ubar.
The soldiers of Ar, await us, they have indeed dug in and established defenses. Even from my tent so far from the field, I can see the lines of pikes set to receive our advance. The great saddlebirds of Gor, which are called Tarns, are high above. Scouts, I suspect, to learn our numbers. We have camped until dawn, when we will engage the enemy in the fields ahead.
I think upon my daughter, Salena, and my beloved Zalika, who now are some thousands pasangs away awaiting word of victory, or defeat. I shall sleep, now, and be refreshed for the morning.
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