The men rose and faced him. They seemed full of consternation. They made no move to find weapons; it was as though here, on the edge of things, they had expected no trouble, certainly not a furious Northern bird with which they could not speak.

I raced down after the creature.

“Urns! Urns!” Finally I called to the men. “Scatter! He’s not bluffing!”

They scattered, still gazing with fascination at his rapid approach, except the leader who stood there still. As Urns rushed to him, and I too raced nearer, we saw his keen grey eyes glittering with a starlight of their own, a movement lambent. Urns did not falter, but rushed right up to him, then stopped with his beak within a few inches of the man’s chest.

“Pedlar!” I said.

This seemingly scornful greeting brought home to me that I did not know his name, but that I ought perhaps to have said “Lord!”

However, he didn’t seem to mind. Ignoring Urns, who still stood as though transfixed, he put his hands behind his back and strolled over to me. He looked quizzical.

“The little girl of the City riot! You’ve come a long way. Is your leg better? Did you find the priest?”

“Perfectly better, thank you. I took the bandages off finally yesterday.”

I stood and looked at him. His thick strands of pallid-gold hair stirred in the breeze. His rags, also, stirred, showing the hard honey muscles. Who was this man who had travelled the ways of the South disguised as a pedlar, while I myself was making my immense but rambling Journey? The others were coming back. They regarded us and Urns with curiosity. “What is she?” asked a slender boy with a toss of sun-fire hair.

“A friend of the old grey priest’s,” said the pedlar.

“He sent me to warn Atlan,” I said. I could tell these people were his real companions, that there was no need to be silent before them. “So of course I came to the coast, but as far as I know nothing else is possible now—he was killed before he could instruct me.”

They grew very grave and drew closer together round me, though not one uttered any exclamation.

“Who was the murderer?”

“My brother, ” I said and there was a silence. They studied me—I felt it was consideringly. Did they think me unfit, unbalanced, or outright one of an enemy syndicate?

“He did not realize what he did,” I said in a low voice.

“Of what do you intend to warn Atlan?”

I hesitated. At first I thought he was being sardonic because of my unworthiness.

“Of the coming invasion—behind her centuries-old silence she can have no inkling that at last the outside world has forged its spearhead. She may even have forgotten any other methods of defence.”

“You think she needs to be notified to prepare?”

“Of course—”