They crossed the mountain trails, and headed out over the plains. The great sand-stretches were dotted by eremophytic plants that lifted thorny branches toward a clear sky. It was a land of peace, where cactus dwelt with mesquite, and the riotous reds and yellows of the wildflowers splashed the desert with colour. Flane wondered whether this peace would soon be shattered by the flaming red clamour of war. His thought almost came to reality on the third day. At noon the riders sighted a vast host moving toward them from the west. Flane stood in his stirrups, staring beneath a palm. Then Aevlyn saw the maroon pennons fluttering from glittering lancetops and cried, "They come from Moornal!" There were golden swans among the maroon banners. She said again, "The men of Yeelya. Truly, the Klarnva are gathered to fight it out with the Darksiders." A cluster of horsemen broke from the array and galloped toward them. Flane and Aevlyn and Besl met them with palms extended, although the warriors had long since recognized the fiery red hair of the girl. At Besl they shot dark glances, and some of them fingered the hafts of their swords. Flane told his story, swiftly. The deputation from Moornal and Yeelya drew away; whispered among themselves with many gestures, once in a while glancing toward Flane and the half-sword that hung at his side. An old man with hair the color of mountain snow broke from their group and came to Flane. "We will abide by the trial of the sword," he said simply. "If the Machine works, then we will gladly live in peace with the Darksiders and the _mekniks_ of Klarn. Aye, we will help establish you as Keeper of the Machine, Flane of Klarn, that all may share its benefits." Besl grunted his surprise, "I never thought to hear a man of Moornal speak words like that." The warrior smiled grimly, "I am an old man. When I remember how life was in my youth," he sighed, "I would be friend of any who helped to bring it back." The old man flung up an arm to his retainer and wheeled his horse beside Flane's stallion. He explained, "I go as Besl does. To bring my people the word. _War--or peace._" * * * * * They rode for many days, across the grasslands and into the desert, skirting that until they came to an ancient rock road. And how they galloped into a red sunset, knowing that before the three moons rose, they would see the spires of Klarn in the distance. Within an hour they drew rein; clustered together, silent. Sitting on their saddles on a hill, they all looked at the black towers of Klarn crouching below them, at the domed temple, the flat-roofed houses. The red Dragon Gate seemed covered with blood in the last rays of the sun. "We must go unseen into that city," Flane said. "And, as unseen, find the temple of the Machine. There will be guards at the Dragon Gate. Leave them to me."