«I have thought of that,» said Geetro. «There is much metal and other material in the Houses of Peace. Some of my people are calculating how to turn it into weapons. They have discovered, for example, that in a single Inward Eye machine there is enough metal to make a hundred grenades or a mortar. As for the explosives-«

Blade held up a hand, although he badly wanted to hear more. He had to force himself not to grin in triumph. Turning Inward Eye machines into weapons would be another enormous step away from the old way of life.

Unfortunately, it would also take time, which Mak'loh might not have. Blade continued.

«We have twelve mortars, people to fire them, and much ammunition. The mortars should be kept out of sight and not used unless the Shoba's men are actually climbing over the city's wall. We want to keep the mortars as a surprise for the Shoba, as they were for Paron.»

Neither Geetro nor Sela needed to be convinced on that point.

«There is much we can do with what we have, but it will not be enough. As Sela knows too well, the Shoba's archers can shoot farther than our rifles. Their cannon can shoot even farther than that. We do not have enough grenade throwers or mortars to fight a battle only with those weapons.»

«Do the Shoba's men know about our rifles and their bows?» said Geetro.

«They will soon enough,» said Blade. «Then they may send their archers up to the city's wall, to shoot at our riflemen. When the riflemen are dead, other soldiers can run up to the wall and climb it on ladders or ropes. Or they can dig a tunnel in the earth, put powder under the wall, and blow a hole in it. Or-«He shrugged. «There are too many things they can do, if we give them time. The Shoba's men not only fight well, they see clearly and think quickly.

«So we cannot wait behind the walls of Mak'loh until they attack. We must be able to go out and meet them in battle and defeat them. For that we need the help of the people of the villages in the Warlands.»

Both Geetro and Sela were too polite, or perhaps too desperate, to tell Blade to his face that he'd gone mad, but both looked skeptical. «If the Shoba's soldiers are as good as you say they are, what can the Warlands villagers do against them?» asked Geetro. «The villagers were wretched barbarians the last time we fought them. Do you know that they are better now?»

«I do.» Swiftly Blade outlined his plan. Some of it was pure bluff, and some of it was educated guesswork. Much of it, though, was what he'd seen in the Warlands or learned from Twana. Irony-Twana was dead, but what she'd told Blade might lead to a great victory for both Mak'loh and for her own people. She would deserve a large place in the history books of this Dimension, although she'd probably never get it.

He finished, «If the villages of the Warlands can send seven thousand fighting men, we can carry out this plan. Even with five thousand, I might be prepared to risk it.

«So I will go to the Warland villages, in a flyer. I will start at Hores, Twana's village, where her father, Naran, is the chief. He is said to be a brave and wise man, who will understand what must be done. If he joins us and speaks for us in the other villages, we will have less trouble. So I will leave tonight, and-«

«No, Blade,» said Sela. «I will go with you. It is necessary.» Both Geetro and Blade stared at her, but she ignored them. «There must be someone from Mak'loh, who can speak for the Authority. You…»

«Sela!» exploded Geetro. «You have just escaped from Paron, and you are wounded as well. You cannot go with Blade!»

«I cannot walk for many days and nights; that is true,» said Sela. «But I can certainly ride in a flyer and speak to village chiefs. Geetro, you have work to do here. You must get the city ready to defend itself until the Warlanders come. That is work I cannot do. Please, Geetro.»

There was a pleading look in her eyes and a pleading note in her voice, both so strong that Geetro finally yielded. «Very well, Sela. Go with Blade, and bring back the Warlanders. But if you don't get her back safely, Blade, I swear I'll kill you with my bare hands!» His tone made it clear that he was not joking.

«She'll be on her way back as soon as the talking is over,» said Blade. «I swear this.» The two men shook hands, and Blade decided to leave Geetro alone with Sela.

As he went out the door, he heard Geetro's voice. «I think we'd better have the worker androids block off a square in the heart of the city. We must have some area we can still defend, even if they do get over the wall.

«Also, I think we should put some of the mortars on the trucks, so they can be moved-«

Blade closed the door behind him and went off down the corridor with a smile on his face. Geetro was a man who would go far and fast once you gave him a slight shove in the right direction. Blade hoped there were more like Geetro in Mak'loh.

Blade and Sela took off the next morning, just after the lookouts on the walls sighted the first of the Shoba's scouts. Blade took the flyer up to a safe altitude and headed straight toward the east.

They were over the Wall in half an hour, and Blade turned north toward Hores. He only hoped it was still standing. He doubted if the Shoba's army had been able to spend much time or effort scouring the countryside beyond the Wall. Hores, though, lay not far from the army's line of march. They might have reduced it to smoldering ruins just to protect their flank.

A few miles south of Hores, Blade dropped down to low altitude to avoid being spotted by either friend or enemy. He swung wide to the east and came in over the same orchard from which he'd watched Twana's kidnapping.

The village stood exactly as it had been, completely intact. There seemed to be even more people than he remembered at work in the fields and passing in and out of the gate. All of them froze as Blade's flyer sailed over the trees and hovered in front of the gate. As he landed, some people ran, others dropped flat as if he'd turned a shock rifle on them, and a few grabbed bows and spears. None of them seemed ready to go into action, but none of them seemed quite ready to be friendly, either. Blade and Sela obviously weren't part of the Shoba's army, but they were something even stranger, and perhaps just as dangerous.

Blade stepped down to the ground, hands held out in the classic gesture of peace. «I have important words to speak to Naran, your chief,» he said. «Bring me to him.»

«What words?» said several people almost together. «Who are you? Why do you come to us?» Someone added, «Do you serve the Shoba?» and drew his bow taut. Blade hoped Sela would keep her hands off her rifle. It might not take much to provoke a shooting match, fatal not only to the two of them but to Mak'loh's chances of an alliance with the Warlanders.

«I am from beyond the Wall,» he said in a level voice. «I do not serve the Shoba. I hate him as much as you do. His soldiers have crossed the Wall and are making war against the city there. It is called Mak'loh. If it falls, the Shoba's army will turn on you next. If you come to the aid of Mak'loh, the Shoba's army will be destroyed, and Mak'loh will-«

At this point Blade broke off, because it was obvious that the people were no longer listening to a word he was saying. They were staring at each other as if they weren't sure who was mad-Blade or them-or even if Blade were real. Then someone muttered something, out of which Blade caught only the single word «Naran,» and somebody else sprinted for the village gate.

Blade stood in the middle of the circle of archers and spearmen, while the sweat began to trickle down his face and a fly settled on his nose. He didn't dare even to raise a hand to brush it off.

Then the messenger came back, and behind him the same man Blade had seen beaten and kicked by the Shoba's soldiers. The chief looked ten years older and walked with a cane, but his eyes were still sharp as they fell on Blade.