“What is the story of Henga, and that matter of Atana and his brother? From what he said, ’twas clear Atana’s brother or Atana had done some wrong to one of his folk. He is sad-looking, too.” “Yes. He has cause to be sad. It was a cousin of his named Thais, a beautiful girl and of sweet temper, but headstrong. We thought they would marry one day. I remember Thais stayed with us awhile the previous summer when Henga was with my guard. But he is slow of speech, and some women think him dull, seeing not his worth. “Then, in an evil day, while visiting friends among the Green Sakae--there was peace in the land two years ago, peace of a sort--she met Atana’s brother Atros, who is an even worse fiend than was Atana. “He feigned to love her, and with false promises induced her to fly with him, for she knew her father would never consent to marriage, hating the Shamans as we do. “But marriage came not, and after a while he tired of her. Finally, wearying of her importunity--her time was drawing near--he said if she would she might return to her own folk, or else he would send her to the gate among the archers’ women next day. “Broken with shame, she came that night to one of my men then in the Shamans’ city, and gave him a letter for Henga, whom she remembered in her trouble. My man, alas! knew not all her story, or he might have saved her then. And that night she killed herself. “But, when Henga got her letter, he took oath, as she had asked him, that he would kill Atros and Atana, who had helped him. Among our people, even among the Christians, the blood feud still remains. But among those who believe in the old gods, more, perhaps, among Shamans and the Brown Sakae, it runs from father to son, and Henga swore he would act to them in their own fashion. “He took leave and went up disguised into their country, and all but succeeded in slaying Atros. But the guards came up in time, and Henga only escaped with his life after he got that sword-gash on his forehead that maybe you noticed. Since then he has waited his time, and to-day, as you saw, part of his oath was fulfilled. But presently I hope the rest will also be lifted from him when we go up against the Shamans. “’Tis true, doubtless, that God punishes those who spoil His handiwork, but it is well that men should sometimes do His justice, lest, from its slowness, others forget its certainty and take to evil ways.” I felt sorry for Henga. No wonder he looked so sad. I hoped that in the fullness of time he would meet Atros, and also, I hoped, I should be there to see it. Perhaps I have some streak of savage madness in me, but, although I do not think I am cruel, and though I hate killing for killing’s sake, there are certain times when I feel I could gladly sit by and see a man die slowly, when I hear of things like this, for instance, or when I saw Aryenis bound in the gate. We had ridden over the broad valley and reached the hills beyond. Kyrlos pointed and said: