Fank paused. “In the Orkneys, my friend, we are not asking of each other’s business,” he said chidingly.

“Thank you for the gifts,” Oladahn said with a bow, “and forgive my curiosity.”

“I accept your apology,” Fank said.

“Before you leave, Master Fank, I thank you on behalf of us all for these welcome gifts,” Count Brass told him. “And could we bother you with a final question?”

“You are all prone to too much questioning in my own opinion,” Fank said. “But then we’re close-mouthed in the Orkneys. Ask away, friend, and I’ll do my level best to answer, if the question is not too personal.”

“Do you know how the crystal machine came to be shattered?” Count Brass asked. “What caused it?”

“I would gather that Lord Taragorm, Master of the Palace of Time in Londra, discovered the means of breaking your machine once he understood its source. He has many old texts which would tell him such things. Doubtless he built a clock whose striking would travel through the dimensions and be of such a pitch and volume as to shatter the crystal. It was, I believe, the one remedy of the enemies of the folk of Soryandum who gave you the machine.”

“So it was the Dark Empire brought us back,” Hawkmoon said. “But if that was so, then why were they not waiting for us?”

“Perhaps a domestic crisis of some sort,” Orland Fank said. “We shall see. Farewell, my friends. I have the feeling we will meet again shortly.”

Chapter Five

Five Heroes and A Heroine

As THE GATES closed behind Fank, Bowgentle descended the stairs and there was an odd expression on his kindly features. He walked stiffly, and his eyes had a distant look.

“What is it, Bowgentle,” Count Brass said in concern, moving forward to grip his old friend by the arm. “You seem disturbed.”

Bowgentle shook his head. “Not disturbedresolute. I have reached a decision. It is many years since I have wielded a weapon larger than a pen, borne anything weightier than a difficult problem in philosophy. Now I will bear arms against Londra. I will ride with you when you set out against the Dark Empire.”

“But Bowgentle,” Hawkmoon said, “you are not a warrior. You comfort us, sustain us with your kindness and your wisdom. All these things give us strength and are as useful as any comrade in arms.”

“Ayebut this fight will be the last fight, win or lose,” Bowgentle reminded him. “If you do not return, then you’ll have no need of wisdomand if you do return, you’ll have but little inclination to seek my advice, for you’ll be the men who broke the Dark Empire. So I will take up a blade. One of yonder mirror helms will fit me, I know. The one with the black crest”

He stood aside as Bowgentle went to the helm and