Six days with Aryenis had accustomed us to the strange accent and unfamiliar idioms of their Greek, and we never had any more difficulty in talking with the educated people. Finally Kyrlos plunged into the matter which was evidently nearest his heart. “And now, my guests,” he began, “if it be not venturing discourtesy, I would know somewhat of the reasons which brought you into this land of ours where no stranger has come for centuries. Aryenis has told me something, but I would hear more from your own lips, more particularly since she spoke of wars in your land, and there will shortly be such war in this country as has never been. Wherefore came you hither?” “We are three travellers, Kyrlos, who came seeking new scenes, for--as your daughter has, perhaps, told you--some hundred years ago a relative of Wrexham’s came to the gate of this land of which our people have no knowledge.” “Yes, Aryenis told me of that, and of the finding of Carius--a most strange event, and one with a hidden meaning, I feel sure. But what of these wars you speak of? Aryenis says that you, Harilek, are a soldier by trade--one holding high command. But your friends also have been fighting, though it seems they are not soldiers at all times.” “For six years our people have been at war, the greatest war of all history--so great that men speak of it as ‘the world war,’ since, save one or two of the smaller nations, not one people in the world but was engaged fighting upon one side or the other. And being so great, all men, whether soldiers or not, took part in it. At the end, when our people were victorious, we three, having no wives or children to call us home, set out on this journey, seeking change of scene and adventure.” “Are you of those who fight for love of fighting, then? Would you stay here and fight for us with your wondrous weapons, which Aryenis tells me slay at arrow-shot distance with naught but a little noise, killing mailed men as though they were clothed but in silk?” Forsyth turned to me. “What about it, Harry? Are you going to chip in with this bally war? I like these people, but I thought we’d come out on a rest cure, as it were.” “Depends very much on what it’s all about,” put in Wrexham. “If it’s a tribal blood feud, I’m not joining. But if it means a smack at the beasts in the gate for their mishandling of Aryenis, and of other people, too, by the look of the place, then I’m for it.” “Yes, every time,” said I, thinking of the first time I saw Aryenis, and of the long hair that Wrexham had tangled his hand in the first night. Kyrlos was watching us reflectively, the firelight playing on his grave features. He is a handsome man in a way, with rather a high-coloured countenance, pronounced eyebrows over dark blue eyes, and a somewhat aquiline nose. Not over-given to speech, but we found him well worth listening to when he opened his mouth. I turned to him again: