Then there came a flash, for all the world like a spark out of that hearth. Then another, and again.

I stared where these sparks were jumping, and I saw that some of the mountain shadows had come alive and were moving in from the west in a jagged surging.

I put my hand between my face and the sun’s face. So I made out horsemen riding from the west, sixty, seventy, eighty of them, and the sparks were springing from the gems they wore, and the gems on the bridles of their tall horses. The gems and the horses spurred my brain, and countless stories came back to me.

I left my mount to his drink. Disconcerted, he turned to watch me run down the slope toward the valley of the gathering.

I found my father Ettook quickly enough, among a stand of thorn trees. He had got in a betting game of throw-bones, had just lost a gold nugget, and was roaring at the injustice and drinking like a drain. They were all drunk, but Ettook made them appear sober. Nearby, a thin deer carcass creaked above a fire, spitting its stinking grease on them.

“My chief,” I said, “I must speak with you.”

He nodded at me, his face congealed in merriment, and his eyes cloudy with dislike and beer.

“My son Tuvek,” he said. “Behold, my fine son by my fine black-haired mare, my woman who makes me boys, who even now is making me another fine Tuvek in her belly.” He shook his beerskin, and they guffawed, saluting his virility in various ways.

“My father,” I said, “take some water to clear your brain. Something is happening. You had better be sensible for it.”

This was not the manner in which to give him my tidings. I was too riled to care.

He erupted from the game of throw-bones, spilling the beer down his shirt, his yellow teeth clamped together. For six months his brow had been level with my shoulder, which did not suit him. He swung his sweaty paw at me, and caught me a blow in the face. I did not bother to avoid it, though I could have done so; he was slow as treacle. It never even rocked me—the red pig was simply padding now, no muscle—but my own hand was answering on a reflex. I should have pulped his nose if I had let myself finish.

I got myself still, and said, “My chief, there are riders coming up on the valley. I doubt if they approach in peace, whoever they are, but from their ornaments I think they may be city raiders.”

Ettook did not hear. Fury was trying to burst his face open and reach me.

I quieted myself further and said, “I ask your pardon, my chief. It is I who am drunk; I talked rashly. I came in haste to warn the krarls.”

Another chief had risen; he bawled, and men trampled between the fires.