For that last part, he enlisted the island's women. He'd asked if he could get them to fight and got only a look of shock and ridicule. So he shrugged and asked them to dig. They'd have ditches that could start as a basic trip hazard and, with enough time, upgrade to pit traps or trenches. Maybe they could make some small fence sections too, to corral invaders. All this was deeply foreign to the islanders. Nobody had ever fought this way.

One man said, "Although the idea of hiding behind a wall is like what they do on Newshore."

Arlen encouraged him to tell the class. The guy recounted how he'd once been made to live there for months. The locals had made a wall of logs and mud and rammed dirt and used that to help against the endless hordes. "The monsters that can't fly over it, anyway. But it helps."

Arlen loudly answered, "So permanent defense walls do work, even against things worse than people. The more of a defense we can build, the better we'll do here."

When a whole day had passed with no attack, the chief decreed there should be a hunt tomorrow, as practice for new tactics. Arlen wasn't sure his makeshift war methods were suitable replacements for the old ways of hunting, but he shrugged and went along to observe.

One thing that impressed him, as he followed the barely-trained mob, was that they'd naturally integrated a stone-flinging mage and a few archers into the back of their formation. "Good idea. Hold the enemy off with spear and shield, and shoot over your friends' heads."

The mage said, "Sir, shouldn't you be in the front yourself?"

Arlen held a spear of bamboo and a hastily made wooden shield, and felt like he was defending himself with a toothpick. "Yeah, sorry." He got into formation on the right edge.

They also had a forward scout who was an actual professional hunter. Arlen hadn't needed to tell them to do that. That man whistled and by agreement, the infantry halted. Arlen strained to see. Someone whispered, "Shockjaws."

Arlen said, "I hate hearing the plural." The group lurched forward, their line wavering. He hissed, "Keep together!"

Something hissed back. Two of the lizards with lightning-crackling jaws were snapping at each other over a deer carcass. They froze, looking up at the little army. The smarter one backed off but the other hissed and jumped.

It crashed into two overlapping shields, and their bearers staggered. Men shouted and stabbed in all the wrong directions. Something touched Arlen's leg. He yelped and fell back an instant before the other critter could bite him, but even the touch of its fangs made his leg go numb. He crashed into the nearest tree.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Two arrows whipped past him and into the monster's throat and body. Then a stone blade flashed into existence and arced overhead. The shockjaw was still up but bleeding, and Arlen could stand up straight and jab his spear. It skittered along the beast's hide and drew blood along the base of its tail. He winced at feeling flesh tear and hearing the monster howl. Another spearman turned away from the line and helped him with a kick and another stab, and then that shockjaw was dying. Excited shouts came from the left; they'd finished off the other one.

"Any more?" said Arlen. A shallow cut burned on his leg.

They searched, breaking formation, and found no more prey. It was a pretty successful trip, and good for morale. As they went home, though, Arlen said, "What good is a thrown magic stone or two, when you have bows?"

The spellcaster said, "I'm not much of an archer."

"What do you normally do with your magic? I haven't learned much and my fancy punching isn't much better than a spear." In training he'd made the point that adding another spearman to the mass of infantry was probably more useful than prancing around in front of it trying to do cool martial arts moves. Unless you were just that good.

The answer was, "I shape stonework. With enough work I can help make solid, dry stone floors. I helped Thoko expand his palace a few years ago."

"Maybe you should be working on the fortifications, then."

The man glared. "Pits and walls! Do you not think I'm brave enough to fight?"

"You're plenty brave. It's just that the better an army is, the more jobs there are for people who aren't standing in the front. Same as with the archers, right?" Arlen spun a true tale of military engineers who'd been assigned to build a sea-port on a remote island in a hurry while under attack.

The spellcaster looked thoughtful. "I guess that's useful, too. And I'm not hiding from danger; I can still be there with a spear when the attack comes."

#

Messengers had gone out to several other islands to ask for at least covert help. There were sympathizers everywhere who'd had friends taken away to the deadly life of a Newshore colonist, or who'd been bullied by Thoko's other demands. But the first contact that came back was from Decim.

Arlen missed it; he was training people in the island's other main village. He came back and heard there'd been two war-canoes from Decim, loaded with a dozen raiders who'd come to "take back what's ours". Opaline's sudden militia had met them on the shore. They'd shouted threats and insults, somebody shot an arrow, and the war party turned around without landing or taking a hit. Could've gone worse. Except next time, Thoko would know to send more at once.

Opaline's next visitor was a fast courier from the island of Catacomb. The tag-team of two sailors signaled for peace and came ashore asking for "the outsider".

Arlen met them in the presence of the chief and the doctor. The Catacomb men wore bracelets of stone and glass beads. One of the pair walked all around Arlen, saying, "Not one of the people. More like one of those shipwreck victims."

"I'm a person too," Arlen insisted. "We need your help against Thoko."

"Our chief wanted to meet you, before we talk about that. Wants to know how strong you are, whether you're useful."