After expounding all this Kyrlos and Forsyth, with Torka in attendance, went off, and Aryenis and I went out to find our horses waiting. The baggage animals had already started, and we passed them near the north gate, Payindah, very debonair on a pony, riding with Temra at the head. It was colder that morning. There was a fresh breeze blowing, and little wisps of cloud that cleared later in the day. But the cold suited Aryenis, as it does all really fair people, and the wind whipped the colour to her cheeks, and made her eyes sparkle over the big collar of her fur-lined riding-coat. We rode leisurely along the road and took the turning to Uncle Paulos’s, our escort clattering behind. “You haven’t told me what we’ve come for,” I said. “You didn’t say anything about it yesterday when we left. Is it a surprise visit to your fairy godfather?” “No. It’s a surprise we--he’s got for you.” “For me! Why, he only saw me for the first time yesterday.” “But that doesn’t matter to fairy godfathers, does it, how many times they’ve seen people?” She went on: “I do hope you’ll like what he’s got for you. It’s something just to tell you that he’s glad you’ve brought me back. You see, he’s very fond of me really.” “Then I’m sure I’ll like it.” We rode in among the trees up to the house and went into the hall, where a fire was burning, and found Paulos sitting on his couch. It was too cold as yet for the lawn. The hall was a big place with one or two bits of really good statuary, showing distinct tracing of Greek craft; some trophies of arms on the panelled wall, and some skins of beasts on the dark wooden floor. There were bears still in the upper valleys in Sakaeland, and a certain number of spotted deer on the lower hills. “Looking more than ever like the morning, Aryenis,” said he as she kissed him. “The winter always suits you best. You’ve just the skin and hair for furs, child. Now take your cloak off and sit down by the fire while I tell Harilek what you’ve got for him.” “What _you’ve_ got, uncle mine,” said Aryenis hurriedly. “I grow old and careless in my speech. I mean what I’ve got.” He turned to me. “Harilek, do you wear mail in your country?” “Not now. Our people used to, but when the noise weapons, as you call them, came in, folk gave up mail, because it was weight for no purpose, since the balls I showed you yesterday pierce it. But in this last war we took to wearing helmets of steel once again, and found some profit in them, since sometimes the balls glanced off.” I wasn’t capable of explaining in archaic Greek the difference between high-velocity rifle-bullets and low-velocity shrapnel, and even if I had been it would have taken a long time to explain that to a man who’d never seen either gun or rifle. “Well, now you go to a war where the enemy have no such weapons, only arrows, swords, and the like. Therefore mail will be of use to you.” “I was only thinking that yesterday when Kyrlos made me put on a mail jerkin,” said I.