Then, even as Grensu howled his pain and turned to flee, Daiv was upon him. He lifted the squat, heavy dwarf, massive armor and all, above his head; shook him as a dog might shake a ground-rat. Grensu's thick lips blubbered incoherent pleas, his eyes bulged wildly. But there was stone in Daiv's breast. By the head and the calves he grasped the screaming commander; his arms made one sweeping motion. Grensu's fearful bleat ended in a choked wail of agony ... something snapped like a forest twig.... Grensu lay still. * * * * * Afterward, one of the Wild Ones came to Daiv where he stood with Meg beside a god-box that now lay quiescent on the ground. "They call for the Priestess, Master," he grinned. "The Old One lies dying. Will you bring the lovely one to the _hoam_?" Daiv said, "I have told you, Wilm, that it is not necessary to call me 'Master.' I am a Man, like yourself; we are all Men, proud and noble. Do not forget." To Meg he said, "You remember Wilm; don't you, Golden One?" Meg did, though it was difficult to see behind the grinning, confident features of this hairy one the same terrified creature whom Daiv had rescued from the pit just the day--could it be so short a time?--before. She nodded. "I remembered Wilm," Daiv told her with a happy-look, "when the lemon-skinned dwarf band attacked us. From the first I knew our defense was futile. We were too few. We needed more, and stronger fighters. So I went for the aid of the Wild Ones--aid which Wilm had pledged me should I need it. "Though," he shook his head ruefully, "I did not know they would have this other weapon, the wall-that-cannot-be-seen, when we returned. Without your help, Golden One, all would have been lost." "And without his," mused Meg, "I should be the pale bride of death." It was an unprecedented gesture for a Woman and a Priestess of the Jinnia Clan to make, but Meg made it. She stretched forth her hand. "I would grip your hand in my own, Man of the forests. Henceforth let there be peace between us." She winced at Wilm's enthusiastic grip. Then, "But let us make haste, O Daiv, my love. The Mother sends for me; I fear she will soon go to join the Gods." There was already the God-look in the Mother's eyes when they reached the _hoam_. A look of strange peace, mingled with one of happiness, as she looked fondly upon Meg. "I am to be with you but a little while longer, my daughter," she breathed quietly. "The Gods have called me, their voices stirred in my ears like the whisper of night-winds in the trees. Soon I shall go." Meg's happiness was suddenly gray with the cloud of heart-hunger. She dropped to her knees beside the older woman's side. "You must not go, O Mother!" she sobbed. "There is much to be done, and only thy wisdom can achieve it." The pale hand of the tribal guardian sought, found, Meg's golden head.