"Protect yourselves, as men. No god has any power to equal yours."
"You speak as a priest of the sun. You hold the weapon of the sun in your hand. You are not like us."
"I am no different. I am a man, the husband of your daughter. Here, take my weapon." I thrust the Hayden into his hand. "Does it make you different? Are you transformed into a god?"
He caressed the cold metal, slowly raising the nozzle and pointing it at a drift of snow. The red flame sputtered and steam swirled up, coating the pines overhead with a film of ice.
"The power of the sun," he whispered. "Come, Lord, we must go quickly to our people."
In the village I found the men of my faction arranged in a semi-circle in front of the cave mouth. Huddled behind them was perhaps three-fourths of the tribe, the women my men had taken as mates and their families. The rest of the tribe was packed densely at the mouth of the cave, swaying and shouting their worship as the voice of Baiel thundered at intervals out of the darkness of the cavern.
One of my men saluted raggedly, explaining how the situation had developed. He added: "We have been aiming above their heads, trying to frighten them away from the cave. No luck, so far."
"Of course Baiel's people aren't armed?"
"No, but too many of the tribe would be killed if we tried to rush the cave."
"I think we can starve them out."