"Make way for the Admiral!" cried the man in the bow of the longboat. "Make way for the admiral!"

We saw frightened faces looking out from the windows. Men were hurrying along the narrow walks lining the canals. I could see the shining eyes of urts, their noses and heads dividing the torchlit waters silently, their pointed, silken ears laid back against the sides of their heads.

"Make way for the Admiral!" cried the man in the bow of the longboat. Our boat mixed oars with another, and then we shoved apart and continued on our way.

Children were crying. I heard a woman scream. Men were shouting. Everywhere dark figures, bundles on their backs, were scurrying along the sides of the canals. Many of the boats we passed were crowded with frightened people and goods. Many of those we passed asked me, "Is it true, Admiral, that there is a Home Stone in Port Kar," and I responded to them, as I had to the man before, "If you will have it true, it will be true."

I saw a man at the tiller of one of the boats put about.

There were now torches on both sides of the canals, in long lines, following us, and boats, too, began to follow us.

"Where are you going?" asked a man from a window of the passing throng. "I think to the Council of Captains," said one of the men on the walk. "It is said that there is now a Home Stone in Port Kar."

And I heard men behind him cry, "There is a Home Stone in Port Kar! There is a Home Stone in Port Kar!" This cry was taken up by thousands, and everywhere I saw men pause in their flight, and boats put about, and men pour from the entryways of their buildings onto the walks lining the canals. I saw bundles thrown down and arms unsheathed, and behind us, in throngs of thousands now, came the people of Port Kar, following us to the great piazza before the halls of the Council of Captains.

Even before the man in the bow had tied the tharlarion-prowed longboat ot a mooring post at the piazza, I had leaped up to the tiles and was striding, robes swirling, across the squares of the broard piazza toward the great door of the hall of the Council of Captains.

Four members of the Council Guard, beneath the two great braziers set at the entrance, leaped to attention, the butts of their pikes striking on the tiles. I swept past them and into the hall.

Candles were lit on several of the tables. Papers were strewn about. There were few scribes or pages there. Of the usual seventy or eighty, or so, captains of the approximately one hundred and twenty entitled to sit in the council, only some thirty or forty were present.

And even as I entered some two or three left the hall.

The scribe, haggard behind the great table, sitting before the book of the council, looked up at me.

I glanced about.

The captains sat silently. Samos was there, and I saw that short-cropped white hair buried in his rough hands, his elbows on his knees.

Two more captains rose to their feet and left the room.

One of them stopped beside Samos. "Make your ships ready," he said. "There is not much time to flee."

Samos shook him away.

I took my chair. "I petiton," said I to the scribe, as though it might be an ordinary meeting, "to address the council."

The scribe was puzzled.

The captains looked up.

"Speak," said the Scribe.

"How may of you," asked I of the captains, "stand read to undertake the defense of your city?"

Dark, long-haired Bejar was there. "Do not jest," said he, "Captain." He spoke irritably. "Most of the captains have already fled. And hundreds of the lesser captains. The round ships and the long ships leave the harbor of Port Kar. The people, as they can, flee. Panic has swept the city. We cannot find ships to fight."

"The people," said Antisthenes, "flee. The will not fight. They are truly of Port Kar."

"Who knows what it is to be truly of Port Kar?" I asked Antisthenes. Samos lifted his head and regarded me.

"The people flee," said Bejar.

"Listen!" I cried. "Hear them! They are outside!"

The men of the council lifted their heads. Through the thick walls, and the high, narrow windows of the hall of the Council of Captains, there came a great, rumbling cry, the thunderous mixture of roiling shouts.

Bejar swept his sword from his sheath, "They have come to kill us!" he cried. Samos lifted his hand. "No," he said, "listen."

"What is it they are saying?" asked a man.

A page rushed into the hall. "The people!" he cried. "They crowd the piazza. Torches! Thousands!"

"What is it that they cry!" demanded Bejar.

"They cry," said the boy, in his silk and velvet, "that in Port Kar there is a Home Stone!"

"There is no Home Stone in Port Kar," said Antisthenes.

"There is," I said.

The captains looked at me.

Samos threw back his head and roared with laughter, pounding the arms of the curule chair.

Then the other captains, too, laughed.

"There is no Home Stone in Port Kar!" laughed Samos.

"I have seen it," said a voice near me. I was startled. I looked about and, to my wonder, saw, standing near me, the slave boy Fish. Slaves are not permitted in the hall of the captains. He had followed me in, through the guards, in the darkness.

"Bind that slave and beat him!" cried the scribe.

Samos, with a gesture, silenced the scribe.

"Who are you?" asked Samos.

"A slave," said the boy. "My name is Fish."

The men laughed.

"But," said the boy, "I have seen the Home Stone of Port Kar."

"There is no Home Stone of Port Kar, Boy," said Samos/

The, slowly, from my robes, I removed the object which I had hidden there. No one spoke. All eyes were upon me. I slowly upwrapped the silk.

"It is the Home Stone of Port Kar," said the boy.

The men were silent.

The Samos said, "Port Kar has no Home Stone."

"Captains," said I, "accompany me to the steps of the hall."

They followed me, and I left the chamber of the council, and, in a few moments, stood on the top of the broad marbled steps leading up to the hall of the Council of Captains.

"It is Bosk," cried the people. "It is Bosk, Admiral!"

I looked out into the thousands of faces, the hundreds of torches.

I could see the canals far away, over the heads of the people, crowded even to the distant waters bordering the great piazza. And in those waters beyond there were crowded hundreds of boats, filled with men, many of them holding torches, the flames' reflection flickering on the walls of the buildings and on the water.

I said nothing, but faced the crowd for a long moment.

And then, suddenly, I lifted my right arm, and held in my right hand, high over my head, was the stone.

"I have seen it!" cried a man, weeping. "I have seen it! The Home Stone of Port Kar!"

There were great cheers, and cries, and shouts, and the lifting of torches and weapons. I saw men weep. And women. And I saw fathers lift their sons upon their shoulders that they might see the stone.

I think the cries of joy in the piazza might have carried even to the moons of Gor.

"I see," said Samos, standing near to me, his voice indistinct in the wild cries of the crowd, "that there is indeed a Home Stone in Port Kar."

"You did not flee," I said, "nor did the others, nor have these people." He looked at me puzzled.

"I think," I said, "that there has always been a Home Stone in Port Kar. It is only that until this night it had not been found."

We looked out over the vast throng, shaken in its jubilation and its tears. Samos smiled. "I think," said he, "Captain, you are right."

Near to me, tears in his eyes, shouting, was the slave boy Fish. And I saw tears, too, in the eyes of the vast crowds, with their torches, before me. There was much shouting, and a great crying out.

"Ye, Captain," said Samos, "I think that you are right."