Savage Games of Lord Zarak by Gilbert L. Morris Page A

always jumping to conclusions and thinking you can do things better than anybody else.”
    Roland grew angrier. He got to his feet and stood looking down at the Sleepers. “We could stay around here for a year and not get anything done! We’ll probably all starve to death in this blasted forest!”
    â€œYou don’t really think we should attack, do you, Roland?” Josh asked curiously. He was sure that a successful attack was impossible and could not believe that the tall young man was serious. “Attacking would be suicide!”
    â€œI’ve heard a lot of tales about you Seven Sleepers. Looks like they were all just a lot of hot air.”
    Jake threw a stick onto the fire and sent the sparks flying upward. Ordinarily he was fairly hot tempered himself, but now he just looked discouraged. He merely said, “Don’t you remember what Goél told us, Roland? You must have a short attention span.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about now?” Roland demanded.
    â€œGoél was very clear,” Jake said. “He told us that most of the battle wouldn’t be a physical one but would take place ‘in the spirit.’ That’s what he said.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Wash threw in quickly. “Something’s got to happen to change the king’s heart.”
    â€œWell, one thing would change it—an arrow right through the middle of it,” Roland Winters said, and once more he stalked off indignantly.
    â€œI’ve heard of a pain in the neck, but that guy gives me a pain in my whole body,” Reb muttered. “I still can’t see why Goél insisted on his coming along.”
    â€œWell, his suggestion to attack the castle was sure foolish,” Josh said. “No doubt about that. Even Goodman says winning by a direct attack is impossible. And he’s lived here all his life.”
    The Sleepers sat around weary and discouraged until finally it was time to roll themselves into their blankets and go to sleep. Probably none of them would sleep very well.

    When Josh woke up the next morning, he rose stiffly and looked around. Wash and Reb and Jake were still asleep. “So where’s our friend Roland?” he asked no one in particular.
    Sarah and Abbey had been sleeping in the lean-to that the boys had made for them out of saplings and boughs. It gave the girls some privacy. Sarah came out at once and said, “Maybe he’s already gone for a walk.”
    Josh walked toward her. “Don’t think so. I woke up several times during the night,” he said. “He just didn’t come back.”
    Sarah frowned worriedly. “You know, Josh, he could have wandered off and gotten lost. That wouldn’t be hard to do.”
    â€œMaybe so.” He gnawed his lip. “Well, we’ll have to go looking for him, then. I’ll wake up Dave and tell him what we’re doing.”
    Dave took the message glumly. “Just let him stay out there wherever he is,” he muttered. “When he’s lost, he’s not giving us problems.”
    Sarah said, “We’ll be back soon. He can’t have gotten far.”
    As they left the camp, Josh said, “He usually goes down toward the stream when he goes walking. Let’s go that way.”
    They made their way among the trees, calling Roland’s name from time to time.
    When they reached the brook, Sarah said, “There are fresh footprints, Josh. It looks like he crossed over. They go up to the water, but they don’t come back.”
    The stream was shallow at this point. Josh lookedat it and sighed. “We’ll have to go over. He’s evidently wandered off someplace. Let’s go.”
    The two started across. The water came up only to their knees in the deepest spot. Most of the time they just stepped from stone to stone until they got to the other side.
    â€œI don’t know this part of the woods too well, so we