His monarch's vicious threat--or rather, promise--left Tedric completely unmoved. "'Tis what I would deserve, sire, or less; but no fear of that. Stupid I may be, but disloyal? Nay, sire. Your word always has been and always will be my law." "Not stupid, Tedric, but lacking in judgment, which is not as bad; since the condition is, if you care enough to make it so, remediable. You _must_ care enough, Tedric. You _must_ learn, and quickly; for much more than your own life is at hazard." The younger man stared questioningly and the king went on: "My life, the lives of my family, and the future of all Lomarr," he said quietly. "In that case, sire, wilt learn, and quickly," Tedric declared; and, as days and weeks went by, he did. * * * * * "ALL previous attempts on the city of Sarlo were made in what seemed to be the only feasible way--crossing the Tegula at Lower Ford, going down its north bank through the gorge to the West Branch, and down that to the Sarlo." Phagon was lecturing from a large map, using a sharp stick as pointer; Tedric, Sciro, Schillan, and two or three other high-ranking officers were watching and listening. "The West Branch flows into Sarlo only forty miles above Sarlo Bay. The city of Sarlo is here, on the north bank of the Sarlo River, right on the Bay, and is five-sixths surrounded by water. The Sarlo River is wide and deep, uncrossable against any real opposition. Thus, Sarlonian strategy has always been not to make any strong stand anywhere along the West Branch, but to fight delaying actions merely--making their real stand on the north bank of the Sarlo, only a few miles from Sarlo City itself. The Sarlo River, gentlemen, is well called 'Sarlo's Shield.' It has never been crossed." "How do you expect to cross it, then, sire?" Schillan asked. "Strictly speaking, we cross it not, but float down it. We cross the Tegula at Upper Ford, not Lower...." "_Upper_ Ford, sire? Above the terrible gorge of the Low Umpasseurs?" "Yea. That gorge, undefended, is passable. 'Tis rugged, but passage can be made. Once through the gorge our way to the Lake of the Spiders, from which springs the Middle Branch of the Sarlo, is clear and open." "But 'tis held, sire, that Middle Valley is impassable for troops," a grizzled captain protested. "We traverse it, nonetheless. On rafts, at six or seven miles an hour, faster by far than any army can march. But 'tis enough of explanation. Lord Sciro, attend!" "I listen, sire." "At earliest dawn take two centuries of axemen and one century of bowmen, with the wagonload of wood-workers' supplies about which some of you have wondered. Strike straight north at forced march. Cross the Tegula. Straight north again, to the Lake of the Spiders and the head of the Middle Branch. Build rafts, large enough and of sufficient number to bear our whole force; strong enough to stand rough usage. The rafts should be done, or nearly, by the time we get there."