Continuing our lesson from the The Great Tome of Saban, Book of Davis:

“On his journey home from the land of the Athenian Hound, the haggard old general began to formulate a plan to defeat The Great Saban.  ‘His men doubt our prowess in battle,’ he thought.  ‘They will surely think us easy prey after a victory over a general with renown such as The Saint.’  And so he journeyed back to his homeland, across the blue grasses, and to the lands where great armies were held in lower prestige than the small bands of giants that fought inside the coliseums of the land.  When he arrived at his camp, he told his lieutenant, ‘Bring to me the White Shadows.’

First came the eldest of the White Shadows.  Great in stature he was not, but so gaudy was his garments that he commanded the attention of all who saw him.  ‘My son,’ the haggard general said.  You have fought foes like this before.  Foes which they gave you no chance to defeat, and yet you prevailed.  Do you remember our battle with the Master of the Hat?’  ‘Yes, my master,’ the soldier replied.  ‘Our field general reigned supreme that day.  But he has joined the mercenaries, now.  No matter.  The men of Saban are not fit to polish the silver of my chains.’  With this confident boast, the haggard general was pleased, and so he gave him leave.

And then approached the second of the White Shadows.  Eight feet tall was he, with rosy cheeks, and from each ear gleamed a glimmering stone the likes of which even the ladies in the Land of Saban would admire.  ‘My son,’ spake the haggard general, ‘My field general abandoned me to join mercenaries in the New City.  It will be up to you to lead this army into battle.’  ‘Ha!’ scoffed the soldier, his shimmering ears reflecting the crisp October moonlight.  ‘Four battles have I fought, and never has defeat found me!  The men of Saban are not fit to polish my jewels!’  And with this confident boast, the haggard general gave him leave.

Though the old general spoke to his men in confidence, no words in those days could be spoken that would not reach the ears of the Dark Lord.  Manifold were his spies, and long was their reach, and keen were their ears, and disreputable were their wenches.  One of these came to the Great Saban, and falling on his knees, he cried, ‘Great Saban!  The Army of the Bluegrass approaches!  They make ready for battle!  A giant leads them, along with the Great Gotti!’  ‘Arise, cur,’ hissed his Terribleness.  ‘Their coming has been long known to me.  Their general knew of our previous deeds, and he seeks to come and extinguish the light I have shed on this place, and to bring back light were I have snuffed it from the very sky.  Let him come.  My men have been too arrogant before, but no longer.  They are finally heeding my words.  They are finally assuming my image.  We have started this march, and we shall finish it.  Let him come.’

And the Dark Lord departed, and he made ready his Army for battle.”