Next morning the same girl servant awakened me. I received glances from her which were even more overtly admiring than before. It seemed I was something of a talking point in Varnal. I felt flattered but a little bewildered. After all, I had only done what anyone else would have done. I knew I had done my chosen task well, but that was all. I felt myself grow a trifle red with embarrassment as I accepted the food she brought me.

It was not yet dawn, but would be in a very short time—less than two shatis, I guessed. A shati is roughly an eighth of an Earth hour.

Just as I was buckling on my sword-belt, a light knock sounded on the door. I opened it and faced a guard.

"The Bradhinaka awaits you in the tower," he told me.

I thanked him and made my way up to the tower-chamber where we had met the previous day.

Shizala and Darnad were both there, already on the balcony, tense and waiting for the sun to rise.

It began to rise as I joined them. They said nothing as we exchanged nods.

Soon the sun was flooding golden light over the scene. It struck the lovely walls of Varnal, gleamed on water and illuminated the dark camp of the Argzoon surrounding our city. I say 'our' city because that is how I was already thinking of itmore so now.

The Argzoon tents were affairs of skin stretched on wooden frames—oval in shape mainly, though a few were circular or even square. Most of the common warriors seemed to be sleeping on the ground and were beginning to stir as light pervaded the scene.

But from one tent—no larger than the others—a banner flew. All the others were undecorated and tended to surround that solitary oval tent sitting in their centre. There was no doubt in my mind that the cunning Argzoon leader slept there.

"So now we know where their leader is," I said, staring hard at the waving Argzoon banner. It seemed to depict some sort of writhing, snake-like creature with eyes not unlike those of the Argzoon themselves.

"The N'aal Beast," Shizala explained with a shudder when I asked her what it symbolized. "Yes, it is the N'aal Beast."

"What—?" I broke off as Darnad pointed.

"Look," he cried, "they are already preparing to attack!"

He rushed back into the room and came out bearing a long, curling trumpet. He blew on this with all his might and a high, melancholy note echoed through the city. Other trumpet-calls sounded in reply.

The warriors of Varnal—many of whom had slept at their posts—began to make ready for another day's fighting. It could well be their last.