The ships made landfall by Skeg. The two wings divided, Stark's wing going to the north and Sanghalain's to the south, so that Skeg could be attacked by land from two sides, with the Ssussminh coming in from the harbor. The action was badly timed, so that Stark and his force joined Morn in the wreckage of the marketplace and had the town well in hand before the first of Sanghalain's men showed up.
Fortunately there was little opposition. With the burning of the spaceport and the foreign enclave, Skeg had sunk back again to the status of a small port dealing lethargically in fish and grain. Most of the inhabitants ran for their lives and were not pursued. A brief, hot skirmish took place at the fishery, where a troop of mercenaries stood guard against raiders and protected the Wandsman who claimed most of the catch. The Wandsman was taken alive.
Stark questioned him, about Ged Darod.
"All is well there," said the Wandsman. His face was strained, and he would not meet Stark's eye. "There are ten thousand ready fighting men, and twice that number in reserve—"
Lies, said Gerd, and lifted his lip on one side to show part of a row of fangs.
Touch him.
Gerd's eyes glowed. The Wandsman sank down to his knees, sobbing.
"I will ask you again," said Stark. "How is it in Ged Darod?"
The Wandsman was middle-aged. He had memories. He looked at Stark with black hatred and said nothing. Touch him.
Gerd touched, flicking the whip of terror across the Wandsman's mind.
"They come," said the Wandsman, stammering. "From everywhere they come, the hungry and the homeless, and we"—he bent his head and shivered—"we cannot feed them all. When the food is gone . . . I do not know. Their faces terrify me. It is the end of us, I think."
"Are there no troops? Mercenaries? Surely the Upper City is defended."
"Defended? Oh, yes. And there are mercenaries. And many others who will fight. But once we have failed our people, once they have lost faith in us—"
"You failed them when you sent the ships away," Stark said. "And now the Goddess is bringing home the truth. I'm minded to make an offering to her when we reach Ged Darod." He turned to the captain of the Iubarians and said quietly, "I advise you to be a little more prompt next time. If the Islanders should come to believe that you're deliberately sending them in ahead to do your fighting for you, you may have some unpleasantness to deal with."
"Hold the brutes back then, if you can," said the captain. "We'll not run to catch up!"
He went away with his men to establish a defense perimeter, which was held while supplies were unloaded from the ships and the war engines brought ashore piecemeal to be prepared for the march.
No attacks came. During the delay, Stark scouted the countryside with the Islanders to keep them busy. They were tight-coiled, savagely impatient now that the promised land was just beyond the horizon. Stark knew how they felt: every laggard hour was torture to him, wondering if the rescue ship had come, and if Ferdias was in touch with it. Stark had feared that the Islanders would wilt in the heat. Instead they had bloomed, stripping away their furs, offering their pale bodies to the sun until they were as dark as teakwood. They went about near naked now, men and women both, charged with a vitality that was almost frightening. The Four Kings fingered the gold plaques around their necks, their eyes turned always to the northeast.
The Ssussminh did not fare so well. They hid their bodies from the drying sun that cracked their skin. They moved heavily on land, and the heat seemed to sap their strength, though they were still formidable enough. Nevertheless, they did not complain. But whenever Stark was near them his mind was aware of sadness, and he "saw" things that he had never seen with his own eyes: the halls and chambers of a city beneath the sea, beautiful with pearls and coral and ivory and many-colored shells. He walked in the streets of that city, and he watched it die as the dark seawater flooded in; and he felt the terrible regret, the yearning after things forever lost.
In what was really a very short time, though it seemed like an eternity, the army took the Wandsmen's Road and went north, traveling as fast as men might travel, dragging catapults and the great war engines on wheeled carts built for them by ship's carpenters during the voyage. The women of Iubar, who did not bear arms, remained behind with their children and a strong guard in the old fortress beside Skeg harbor. No one knew what would happen at Ged Darod. Only Sanghalain went with the fighting men, surrounded by tall Ssussminh who carried her in a chair with long poles, which they set upon their shoulders.
Stark's own small company went ahead of all, even before the Head of Gengan. Alderyk, who had turned broody and ill-tempered as a falcon in molt, was as impatient as the Islanders.
"My people are somewhere on this road. It was a mad dream that made me leave them."
"You came to control the whirlwind," Stark said, "so that it should not do too great damage to your world. Remember?"
"A fool's reason. I was led by my own desire to see more of that world. The Place of Winds was a prison. Now that my people have been forced to leave it, it seems incalculably beautiful and precious."
"The Goddess has claimed it. You can never go back."
"And where shall we go, Dark Man? Where shall we find another home?"
"If a ship comes, as Gerrith promised—"
"I am weary of this talk of ships." Alderyk's wings spread and snapped shut again with a vicious crack. Dust sprang up from the road in a whirling cloud.
Halk laughed. "We are all weary of your ships, Dark Man, and of Gerrith's prophecies. We can trust to nothing now but our own strong hands." The hilt of the great sword glittered in the sun above his left shoulder. He said softly to Stark, "I have not forgotten my pledge to you."
"Nor have I," Stark answered angrily. "How is it that a child can grow so tall?" He strode away, taking his growling, bristling hounds with him.
It was while he scouted ahead with the pack that he received Gerd's warning. Men! And a little later he saw the dark mass of them barring the way.
The Ironmaster's folk had gone aside from the direct path to Skeg in search of food. They found a guard station on the Wandsmen's road and took it. Both men and beasts were there, for these stations on the Lower Road were still maintained, and the Ironmaster was well pleased.
Until the army came upon him. At first sight of the dust, the shield-wall formed. Women hastily piled human carcasses on the beasts of burden. The Ironmaster stood beneath Strayer's wind-whipped banner, waiting.
The army halted. Stark looked at the banner. At first he did not believe what he saw. But then the glint of dark iron from the rows of shields and caps and breastplates left no doubt. "Thyrans," he said.
Halk, who had come up with him, reached his two hands to the longsword and brought it singing out of its scabbard.
"I remember them." He lifted the sword high. He shouted to the Islanders and plunged forward.
Stark kicked Halk's feet from under him and knocked him flat with a blow across the back of the neck. Hold him, he said to the hounds, and picked up the sword.
The Islanders had begun to move, eager for battle. Stark shouted to the Four Kings, "Call them back!"
Delbane said, "We do not fear their swords and shields."
"There's no need for such haste. Halk has a personal quarrel with these people, who killed his shield-mate. Unless they attack us, let be until I talk to them."
Morn had come up to see what was the matter. Stark spoke to him briefly and he went back to the Iubarians. Then Stark glanced at Halk, lying fire-eyed in the dust with the pack around him, and called to Gerd and Grith. He walked forward toward the Ironmaster.
"The last time we met," said Stark, "was in your house at Thyra, when you sold me and my people to the Wandsmen."
The Ironmaster nodded. He looked at the Northhounds. "We heard that you had stolen the guardians of the Citadel. We did not quite believe." He shrugged, and the hammer symbol lifted on his thick chest. "So. You outnumber us, and you have the deathhounds. Still, we can fight." The iron ranks crashed blades on shields. "Or you can let us go on our way peacefully to Skeg."
"What do you hope to find at Skeg?"
"The Wandsman Gelmar. We need a new place to build our forges, beyond reach of the Goddess. He may help us."
"Gelmar is not there. Few are there now except Iubarian women and children." He looked past the Ironmaster and the soldiers to where the laden beasts stood with the arms and legs of their burdens dangling down. "You will understand why we can't permit you to go to Skeg."
"What, then?"
"The Wandsmen's day is done. Come with us to Ged Darod and help finish it."
"We have no quarrel with the Wandsmen. We want—"
"—a place to build your forges. It will have to be on another world, then. You have more metal on your backs than has been seen in the Fertile Belt for a thousand years, and you'll find no city here like Thyra. The Wandsmen can give you nothing."
"That is only your word," said the Ironmaster. "The word of an outlander."
"It is the only word you have," Stark told him. "Join with us, or we will crush you."
The Ironmaster considered. There were many men, and not-men. Archers had moved out to the flanks. A strange machine was being trundled up. Battle now, against these odds, would mean the destruction of his people as an entity, no matter if some of them did survive. He looked up at the banner above him. "Perhaps it is Strayer's will," he said. "So be it."
"You'll march with me," said Stark, appreciating the simplicity of one-man rule, where no time need be wasted haggling with committees. The Ironmaster spoke, and it was done. "Remember that the Northhounds can hear your thoughts. If there is treachery, you will be the first to die."
The Thyran men, in two parties, were sent out to take point on either side. The Thyran women, their children, and their laden beasts with their grisly burdens—decently covered, for neither the Iubarians nor the Islanders were man-eaters and both considered the habit gross—were placed in the center of the line. Stark returned the longsword to Halk. Nothing more was said on either side. But Stark put two of the hounds to watch at Halk's back. The Ironmaster's standard-bearer came with him to Stark's side. The army moved on again—a long, fat, motley-colored snake winding along the dusty road.
"How was it with Hargoth and his people?" asked Stark.
"The Gray Ones had already fled. We never saw them." The Ironmaster shrugged. "Perhaps the Goddess devoured them all."
The long miles fell behind. One by one, the stations were overwhelmed. And on a hot noonday they came to the plain of Ged Darod, where Stark pointed out the roofs of the city aglitter in the sunlight.
The Four Kings stepped forward beneath the golden Head of Gengan. They knelt and touched the ground with their hands.
Stark looked up sidelong at the rusty blaze of Old Sun. Your favor was bought dearly, he said, but only the hounds heard him, and whined. I hope the taste of her blood was sweet. Be patient, I will give you more.
The Islanders did what he had known they would do. They broke from the line of march, disdaining orders, forgetting everything but the sight of their ancient home. Like a company of tigers, they bounded out across the plain.
Ashton shouted, "Eric!"
But he was gone, running with the Islanders and the white hounds, leaving the Thyrans and the men of Iubar to follow as they would.