Summer was coming, and with it the feast of the return of Shamar, that could not be set forward or delayed. Though the foe were hammering at its gates, Oleric said, the feast would be held in the city. Such was the ancient law laid down in the early days of Adlaz. On the Mazanion Road they found the captain Fanaer once more, tireless and vengeful. As he had harried them all the way from the isthmian passes to the plains of Nor, so he harried them now. Every foot of the hundred miles down the Mazanion Road he fought them, and with him fought Bel-Ar, his master. Wall after wall they built and lost. It was not until afternoon of the last day that the Rutharian vanguard, so worn with battle that it staggered as it rode, broke through the final barrier and marched through the gorgeous suburban estates to the wall of Adlaz. Under the leadership of Fanaer, the remnant of Bel-Ar's army made a last desperate stand, but was swept away. As night came on, the Maeronican king, broken-hearted, but still defiant, entered his city and closed his gates--there to sit down and wait for the coming of the Goddess Glorian. * * * * * It was nine o'clock of a morning--the morning of the third day of the Maeronican month of Kanar, corresponding to the fifteenth of November; or, to reverse the seasons to the terms of our northern clime, the sixteenth of May. A man who bore a heavy heart within his golden armor faced a white-faced maid in the ancient audience-hall of the dead king Bel-Tisam. "Now am I in my heart almost a traitor to my king and land, lady," Brunar said. "For I have almost wished that your lover might prevail over Bel-Ar and save you. But the day has come and the time is at hand, and Ruthar is still without the walls. Would that I might save you, lady--I think that to do so I would willingly give my life. But Shamar's servants have watched this place by day and by night. It cannot be. Already they wait for you without the doors to lead you to the temple." For an instant the girl's eyes swam with terror. She gazed hither and yon about the hall like a hunted thing. Then the heritage of her northern race came to her aid and saved her from collapse. Bravely she faced and spoke to the captain. She stepped to the cradle of the little Patrymion and kissed the babe. "I am ready," she said, then. At the doors of the prison a chariot waited, and with it were four of the white-robed priests of Shamar. The girl was lifted into the car. The charioteer drove up the side avenue of Chedar's Flight, past the Place of Games, now standing empty and silent, to the grounds of the Temple of the Sun. They saw many armed men in the street as they passed along. As they entered the gateway of the temple grounds they heard a dull booming that beat up with the wind from the south, where Ruthar hammered at the Mazanion gates.