The red captain referred them to the king of Ruthar for their answer. Polaris bade them go back to the lords of the cities and say that he wished to make war on none save Adlaz and the king thereof--but that war he would wage until the death or the submission of Bel-Ar. "Our lords will not join ye in war against Adlaz," said one of the heralds hastily. "We be not such traitors; but our soldiers will bear arms against the terrible beasts no more." "Ruthar asks no help in her warfare against Bel-Ar," Polaris replied. "Take your armies to their homes in peace." That answer satisfied the lords of the cities, and they sent word that so they would do; and if Polaris in the end prevailed against Adlaz, they would bend the knee to his rule. Secretly they hoped that he would win. Bel-Ar had been a hard master, and those who had seen the tawny-haired king of Ruthar deemed him to be the better man to serve, outlander though he was. So that host was dispersed and went its various ways homeward. The soldiers of Adlaz and the levies from the lands around the city were of a different kidney. To a man they stood firm for their king. Beasts or no beasts, they swore, they would die for him, did he wish it. It seemed likely that their promise would be required of them. Bel-Ar, stubborn and high of spirit, was resolved to fight on. He still mustered under his banners a force of nearly sixty thousand men, veterans of his former wars and the flower of the fighting men of the land. Besides, he held the advantage of position. When Ruthar would have gone on against him in the morning, it was found that his engineers, working through the night, had piled the bridge-heads with barricades of stones, so thick and high that no amaloc charge would beat them down. Behind those barriers the Maeronican generals reorganized their broken forces and sent in the front fresh soldiers drawn from the reserves that were waiting along the Mazanion Road. Not for many weary miles was there another crossing of the Thebascu--if, indeed, there were any on the course of the river where were bridges strong enough to support an army and the weight of the amalocs. Taking counsel together, Polaris and Oleric and their generals decided that they must hammer their way through at the three bridges. They might have blown up the barriers with melinite; but they dared not, for fear of destroying the structures of the bridges also; and they had not the time to build new bridges. Only a sustained frontal attack, at the cost of many men, would clear the way. For a score and ten days and nights the furious struggle was waged at the Thebascu. Then one of the bridges was taken. Polaris, his great frame grown gaunt from continual fighting, and his face sunken and haggard with anxiety and loss of sleep, saw through hollow and burning eyes his hosts swing across the river and into the Mazanion Road. Fourteen days were left him, and then--the Feast of Years, and the end.