“May I have arms, O king, so that I can fulfill your mission with credit to you?” Myles asked, with a twinkle in his gray eyes. “You keep on improving,” Grod replied. “Yes, you may. Here, take my own sword. You are a brave man and an able warrior, as my chin well remembers. May the Builder grant that some day we shall fight side by side.” This gave Cabot an idea. “Why can that not be now?” he suggested. “Why not form an alliance with Vairkingi against the unmentionable one?” But Grod the Silent shook his head. “No,” he said positively, “it cannot be. In the first place, the unmentionable one is himself seeking to make such an alliance against me; and in the second place, this is my own private fight. I have spoken.” Then Cabot had a further idea. “About the wagons,” he said, “would you mind sending for them to my brickyard north of Vairkingi? That would be more convenient.” “Very well,” Grod replied. Roy warriors then supplied the two prisoners with portable rations, and escorted them for quite a distance from the camp, until they struck a mountain trail. This, the escort informed them, led to Vairkingi. There the Roies left Myles and Quivven alone. The first thing that she asked was, “With all these mountains full of warring Roies, do you believe that we shall be safe?” “I think so,” Myles replied. “The very fact that they are at war will keep them much too busy to bother about us. Come on.” As they hurried down the trail, each related his or her adventures to the other. Cabot’s have already been set down. As for Quivven, she had gone with a few soldiers to hunt for Myles after his prospecting party had returned and reported his disappearance by the river; but her party had been killed, and she had been taken prisoner. “Did Grod treat you with respect?” Myles asked, with clenched fists. “Absolutely,” she replied, tossing her pretty head. “I never knew a man so impersonal. I am accustomed to have men recognize my presence and pay some attention to my existence. But this brute—why, I might just as well have been a piece of furniture or one of his servants. I don’t believe he knows now what color my eyes are, or whether I’m pretty or not. And you’re just as bad as he is,” she added somewhat irrelevantly. “Your eyes are blue, and you are very pretty,” Cabot replied. “In fact, you closely resemble my own wife, the beautiful Princess Lilla, who waits for me far across the boiling seas.” “Which reminds me to ask,” Quivven said abruptly. “How successful was your expedition, apart from your being captured and getting yourself into all kinds of trouble?” So he told her about the glistening metallic particles in the sands of the river. Also how he had found what were probably zinc-blende and galena. Then they discussed in detail his plans for his various factories. From time to time they munched some of the food which had been given them.