He knew all about us, for Kyrlos had sent off a letter by a swift mount the afternoon Aryenis had returned, and another with more detail next day. He thanked me in much the same way as Kyrlos had done, and asked after my wound. I explained that it was practically healed, and that the bandage would be off in a day or two. Then Aryenis presented me to Ziné, a pretty girl with dark-brown hair. The picture we had found had not been too flattering. We mounted again and rode on up to the city, the two girls talking hard in front, and Milos and I behind them. He asked me details of our adventures as we rode along, speaking slowly in Greek. I could see he was looking at my dress curiously from time to time, and at last he asked me whence I got it, so I told him. “I thought I knew the helmet,” he said, “though it is years since I have seen it. So Paulos sends you to war in his mail, does he? You could not carry a better man’s arms if you searched the whole land. One of the bravest, and there be many brave men in our country. And from what I have heard you also have some claim to be counted in their number. Kyrlos wrote me a full account.” The Sakae had a very straightforward manner of talking, and seemed to say exactly what they thought. It was clear that their long residence in Asia had not tinged them with Asiatic indirectness of speech. Like Paulos, he displayed great interest in our weapons, and wanted me to show him how they fired. We had to make a rule after that not to fire except in case of need, for ammunition was precious, and we did not know how long we were going to be in Sakaeland. So we spread the story that we never fired them except in actual battle or for practice, it being considered unlucky to do so. Otherwise I think we should have got through our ammunition in the first week. Miletis was a large edition of Aornos: the same long granite walls, the same high gates, and the same broad clean streets, lined for the most part with fruit trees. It stood at one side of a long hill above the river, and beyond it the hills climbed to meet the lower slopes of Saghar Mor, whose snow-peaks towered above us some twenty-five miles away. They rose in long rolling slopes, covered with ilex and pine, and higher up with thick fir forest and rhododendron groves, aflame in summer with gorgeous scarlet blossoms. Most of the wealthier inhabitants have country villas in the higher hills, where they spend the hottest of the summer months. We got the same shower of greetings as we had at Aornos, but even more noticeable here in Aryenis’s own city, and we progressed very slowly through the crowded street.