Lod still ruled the tribe in battle or in the hunt, but the chiefest spoils of battle were given to Ged, and the beasts that they slew were Ged's; and all questions that concerned war or peace, and questions of law and disputes, were always brought to him, and Ith gave the answers after speaking to Ged by night. At last Ith said, the day after an eclipse, that the gifts which they brought to Ged were not enough, that some far greater sacrifice was needed, that Ged was very angry even now, and not to be appeased by any ordinary sacrifice. And Ith said that to save the tribe from the anger of Ged he would speak to Ged that night, and ask him what new sacrifice he needed. Deep in his heart Lod shuddered, for his instinct told him that Ged wanted Lod's only son, who should hold the iron sword when Lod was gone. No one would dare touch Lod because of the iron sword, but his instinct said in his slow mind again and again, "Ged loves Ith. Ith has said so. Ith hates the sword-holders." "Ith hates the sword-holders. Ged loves Ith." Evening fell and the night came when Ith should speak with Ged, and Lod became ever surer of the doom of his race. He lay down but could not sleep. Midnight had barely come when Lod arose and went with his iron sword again to the hill. And there sat Ged. Had Ith been to him yet? Ith whom Ged loved, who hated the sword-holders. And Lod looked long at the old sword of iron that had come to his grandfather on the plains of Thold. Good-bye, old sword! And Lod laid it on the knees of Ged, then went away. And when Ith came, a little before dawn, the sacrifice was found acceptable unto Ged. THE IDLE CITY There was once a city which was an idle city, wherein men told vain tales. And it was that city's custom to tax all men that would enter in, with the toll of some idle story in the gate. So all men paid to the watchers in the gate the toll of an idle story, and passed into the city unhindered and unhurt. And in a certain hour of the night when the king of that city arose and went pacing swiftly up and down the chamber of his sleeping, and called upon the name of the dead queen, then would the watchers fasten up the gate and go into that chamber to the king, and, sitting on the floor, would tell him all the tales that they had gathered. And listening to them some calmer mood would come upon the king, and listening still he would lie down again and at last fall asleep, and all the watchers silently would arise and steal away from the chamber. A while ago wandering, I came to the gate of that city. And even as I came a man stood up to pay his toll to the watchers. They were seated cross-legged on the ground between him and the gate, and each one held a spear. Near him two other travellers sat on the warm sand waiting. And the man said: