At the end, hours past the time they began, Phryne looked at the completed task. She saw merely a shepherd hut with a somewhat thicker roof than was common, and wreckage behind it. "Do our lives hang on no more than this?" she asked wonderingly. "Would it not have been better to flee across the plain?" "Once they found our trail," said Tjorr grimly, "they could have changed horse and horse while our own ran themselves dead. No, our chances here are not good, but I think the _disa's_ plan has made them better for us than if we played mouse to the Roman ferret" "One more thing to do," said Eodan. He kindled a stick, went over and touched it to the haystacks. The shepherds moaned. Eodan grinned, with a certain pity, and tossed the grandsire his full purse. "There's the price of your flocks and home and a winter's lodging. Go!" He waved his sword and pointed south. They stumbled from him, out onto the plain, looking back with frightened animal eyes. "Why those bonfires?" asked Tjorr. "Not that I don't like the warmth on this bitter day, but--" "Hay could be stacked around the house and lit," said Eodan. "I do not wish to die in an oven." Tjorr tugged his ruddy beard. "I had not thought of that. Is it a heavy burden to be forever thinking, _disa_?" Eodan did not hear him. He took Phryne's hand in his. "Have I any hope of making you depart until the fight is over?" he asked. Her dark head shook. "In all else will I obey you," she said, "but I have a right to stand with my man." "I made you a promise once," he began, shaken. "Oh, I hold you to it," she laughed. It was a very small and lonely laugh, torn by the wind. "You shall not kiss me against my will. But, Eodan, it is now my will." He touched his lips to hers, with an unhurried tenderness; if they lived, there would be more than this. Tjorr said: "I make out a dust cloud to the north, _disa_. I think horsemen." "Then let us go within," said Eodan. It was dark in the hut; stones covered the smokehole, now, and the sagging door was closed behind them. They sat on the earth and waited, Phryne lying in the circle of Eodan's arm. Presently hoofs rang on the ground outside, and weapons clashed. They heard a dog bark. "The place seems deserted," said a voice in Latin. "Maybe the fire in that hay drove its people off." "And they left two hobbled war-horses?" snapped Flavius. "Look in and see if anyone lairs." Tjorr planted himself by the doorway, raising his hammer. The door creaked open. Chill gray light outlined a Roman helmet and shimmered off a Roman cuirass. Tjorr struck down, and the helmet gonged. There was the noise of crunching bones. The man fell and did not move again. "Here we are, Flavius!" cried the Alan.