We clattered into the great courtyard and dismounted, the men riding on to their quarters with Firoz among them, the red-haired girl still walking by the big N.C.O. Wrexham and Stephnos went off to wash, demanding instant food and drink, especially drink. Milos and I joined them later in the big dining-hall, where they were taking the edge off their appetite with bread and cold meat; and while Stephnos, between mouthfuls, recounted the story to Milos, Wrexham gave me his version. “After we’d had breakfast at Aornos yesterday,” said Wrexham, refilling his glass, “we rode on ten miles or so to a frontier fort--place called Takos, very much like the one we went to the first day. “Stephnos asked me if I’d care to come, and I went, as I wanted to see a bit more of the country. Also he said that there were enemy reported in the vicinity, and I’d not seen any live Shamans so far. He took twenty men with him, and I took Firoz along in case we ran into anything, when a second rifle would be handy. “When we got to Takos, the fellow commanding there said that there was nothing doing as yet, but that some friendly Green Sakae had come in and reported having seen Shaman horsemen moving about in their country. “The afternoon was getting on by that time, for we’d not gone very fast, and so Stephnos decided to stop there, and the bloke in charge fixed us all up for the night. “It was a regular mediæval sort of a show--rather like what you’ve told me about the Punjab frontier. They shut the place up at dusk, and after the evening meal we went up on top of the keep and talked a bit. There was a big beacon in an iron cage stacked ready for lighting, and a small pot of burning charcoal and torches all handy. “The sentries were along the parapet, four of ’em with their bows and half a dozen arrows laid out ready on the coping. Seemed a businesslike crowd with good discipline. “Stephnos told me if nothing occurred we’d ride straight here in the morning, after he’d looked around a bit. I fancy he was hoping something would happen. He’s a bit of a thruster, Master Stephnos, and I could see he was itching to push a sword into some one. Good lad that.” He looked across at Stephnos, who was talking to his uncle, the last rays of the sinking sun sweeping through the window on to his young keen face, with the dancing blue eyes--very steady now, though, as he talked--and the bobbed yellow locks. Save for the different colouring and the masculine features, he was amazingly like Aryenis. “Well, we went down and turned in, for it gets pretty parky now after dark. I talked a little to Stephnos, but it’s not too easy as yet. I wish I could patter Greek like you birds. However, we were both pretty sleepy, and it didn’t take us long to get off. “Somewhere about four we woke up, hearing a lot of noise upstairs. Then down came one of the men with a lantern and jabbered something to Stephnos, who jumped out of bed and started pulling on his kit.