It was a very grave-eyed Aryenis that helped me on with all this paraphernalia of war, quite a different person from the dancing-eyed girl who had chaffed me the day before about not being grown up, different again from the dreamy one who had sat looking into the fire talking of dragons and fairy princesses. But then that is the charm of Aryenis, that she is ever different and yet always the same. “They fit you well and they suit you, Harilek,” said Paulos. “It does me good to see them out again. I feel the younger for it. We old folk live our lives again in you young people. Now for the helmet and then you are complete, for I will not give you the long bow, which, I understand, you cannot use, nor indeed do you need it, having your own weapons.” Aryenis took up the steel cap, with its pointed centre and the low sweeping brim that covered all the back of the head round to the temples on either side. It was of bright polished steel, with a thin filigree pattern of silver beaten in all round above the rim. In front was an embossed silver plate fixed to the steel with two little sockets in it and a ring. Reaching up with both hands, she put it on my head, pulled up the chin-strap, and stepped back to see the effect. “They fit as though made for him, uncle; don’t they?” “They do. I thought that we were of a size. Now, Harilek, you will be able to go out to this war of our people armed after their own fashion. You take with you, along with an old man’s armour, an old man’s prayers for your safety and his wishes for your good fortune. And also I know”--he turned to Aryenis--“the prayers and wishes of the lady who armed you.” “And the most heartfelt gratitude as well, Harilek. God keep you safe even as you saved me.” I thanked them as best I could, rather stammeringly, I think. “Now we will drink to the good fortune of my old arms on Harilek,” said Paulos, clapping his hands. Whereupon the old hatchet-faced man brought us in wine of Paulos’s best, and they drank to me. The old archer also drank and said a few words, which Aryenis translated as meaning to say that I looked a proper kind of soldier, and that he hoped I would carry the arms as worthily as his master had done. I think there was an old family-retainer spice of doubt in his mind on the point. “And now we must ride,” said Aryenis, putting on her cloak. “I want to get to Miletis early to-day and see every one. It’s too wonderful to be getting home after thinking I had seen the last of it all. Good-bye, uncle mine, and thank you for everything.” “Good-bye, child,” he said, kissing her. “Come and see me when the men ride away, and when this young man comes back, bring him, too, that I may hear how he has carried my arms. Good-bye, Harilek, and all good fortune mark your days. Remember that the Brown Sakae strike low, ever, upward from the knee.”