In recent weeks, their off-duty conversations had turned often to the comforts and pleasures of Thorbardin -mugs of heady ale before roaring fires in the countless ale shops of the cities, challenge matches in the pits, the smell of dark bread emanating from the bakeries, the pleasure of lifting fine metal from a cherry-red forge bed to craft upon an anvil, the joy of a leisurely game of bones, the excitement of wagering on worm-pulls… and the girls. Each of them had wonderful memories and exciting anticipations regarding some special female awaiting his return-or of two or three females or, in the case of the gold-bearded young Daewar, at least a dozen.

A camaraderie had grown among them during the long, cold season, and they shared their thoughts and their dreams as they would among close friends, ignoring the fact that, once returned to Thorbardin, they would likely be caught up in the clan feuds there as before, and soon be at one another's throats. Such harsh realities could fade from the mind in the course of a winter season on Sky's End.

Morning, evening, and night, by twos, they stood their watch on the cold mountainside and anticipated the bright coins they would receive beyond Northgate.

And then, one bright morning, their boredom ended.

The Daewar and one of the broad-shouldered Theiwar, on morning watch on the concealed ledge outside the sentinel cave, were the first to see the strangers, and they woke the others. Far in the distance, at least thirty miles to the west, there was movement on a ridgetop, the tiny, methodical "flowing" motion of a great many people-or some kind of creatures-on the move. For a time the six all stood on the ledge, bundled in the heavy bearskin robes that made them look like bearded badgers with bright helmets, as the distant movement continued. "There are a lot of them," a Theiwar observed. "Thousands, it looks like."

"And they are coming this way," the Hylar decided.

For an hour or more, the flow of distant movement continued, rank after rank of tiny specks appearing atop the faraway ridge, and moving down its visible slope, disappearing into some valley below.

"A herd of bison?" one of the Daergar suggested.

"Not likely." The Hylar shook his head. "They're moving in the wrong direction for bison in this season. I think those are people. Maybe a trade caravan?"

"From where?" the Daewar protested. "They're coming from the west. There's nothing out there but wilderness."

"There are Neidar settlements."

A Theiwar shook his head, frowning with intuition. "Those are people, all right, but they're not Neidar."

"The only dwarves outside Thorbardin in this season are Neidar." The Daewar frowned. "Do you suppose those are humans or something?"

"What would that many humans be doing out in the wilderness?" a Daergar puzzled. "And why would they be coming here?"

"Why do humans ever come here? To attack Thorbardin."

"They've been trying and failing for centuries. That last time-what was it, four or five years ago? Lord Kane or some such name? He brought a whole army all the way from Daltigoth. But they didn't get in. They just banged on Northgate for a while, then gave up and went away."

"But they came from the north. These people are coming from the west. Maybe they don't know that they can't get in. Or maybe they've forgotten. I hear humans are very forgetful."

The Hylar had brought out a far-seeing tube-a brass cylinder with glass lenses mounted in it-and they took turns peering through it. But the distant specks were too far away even for magnified vision. Then, after a time, there was nothing to look at. All of the moving specks had disappeared from view, hidden by intervening rises.

"I think we had better signal," the Hylar decided, turning toward the enclosed cave.

"Signal what?" a Daergar scoffed cynically. "Do we say something moved, and we saw it but we don't know what it was? I say we wait and get a better look."

The Hylar went on into the cave, and returned with a large vibrar and a pair of wooden mallets. But he set the drum aside and crouched on the ledge, waiting. "We'll take a better look when they're closer," he said. "But then, whatever or whoever is out there, we signal. Any time several thousand of anything approach Thorbardin, the gatekeepers ought to know about it."

"I agree." The Daergar who had spoken crouched beside the Hylar, his face hidden by the slitted iron mask his dark-sighted people favored in daylight. "But there's plenty of time. There are still a lot of miles out there, between us and whoever is coming to call."

The sun stood directly overhead when the strangers appeared again, topping another rise in the mountain terrain. Though still far away, they were closer now by several miles. And the direction of their line now was obvious. They were moving south of east, directly toward Thorbardin. The Hylar sentinel put the seeing-tube to his eye, peered through it, and grunted, "By Reorx! Those are dwarves!"

Beside him, the Daewar blinked in surprise. "Dwarves? What dwarves? Who are they?"

"I can't tell," the Hylar said, squinting into the seeing-tube. "Neidar, I suppose. All the other thanes are in Thorbardin. But so many? There are thousands of them! I've never seen more than a few dozen Neidar traveling together. Here, see for yourself."

The Daewar took the device and peered through it. Magnified, the distant horde was still tiny, barely identifiable, but there was no doubt: they were dwarves. He tried to estimate their number and gave up. It was as the Hylar had said. There were thousands of them. Several thousands. And they marched as an army marches-distinct companies in orderly ranks, maintaining their formations despite the rugged terrain.

In the lead and on both flanks rode mounted companies, brightly clad dwarven figures mounted on big horses, and among those afoot were hundreds of other large beasts, some pulling carts, some laden with packs.

Here and there among the strangers, the high sun glinted on bright armor-the familiar flash of metal helmets, shields, and body plating-but what was more striking were the bright colors of fine garments. Each group and company seemed to have its own combination of colors. In one unit, yellow and brown were prominent. In another, green and black dominated, and in still another, blue and tan. Only among those in the middle of the array-those walking with the carts and pack animals -did there seem no pattern of colors, though even there bright hues were plentiful.

"They dress colorfully," the Daewar noted, his gaze dropping to the very head of the moving band. At the point of the first mounted unit, whose preferred colors seemed to be red and gray, rode a figure whose helm and breastplate reflected the sunlight like a mirror. He wore a cloak of bright red, and the same red was used in the trappings of his horse. The sentinel peered, trying to see more detail, then handed the tube to another volunteer, one of the Theiwar. "What do you make of that one in the lead?" he asked. "I don't think he's a Neidar. For that matter, none of them look like Neidar to me."

The Theiwar gazed through the tube's lenses, then handed the device back to the Hylar. "You look," he said. "See if that's somebody you know."

The Hylar squinted, then shook his head. "I can't make out any features at this distance. Why did you think I might know him?"

"I don't know." The Theiwar shrugged. "There's just something about him that reminds me of Hylar."

"When you've seen one Hylar, you've seen them all," the Daewar chuckled. "Of course, that applies to Theiwar, too. You people have arms as long as your legs."

"You can keep your opinions to yourself, gold-molder," the Theiwar growled good-naturedly.

The Hylar sentinel took another look, then passed the seeing-tube along and picked up his vibrar, hitching its leather sling over his shoulder. "We've seen enough to signal the gate," he said, gripping his mallets.