The Newcomers paused in turn. "Barak," said the officer, "don't you know us? Don't you know me?"
I did know him, now that he spoke again. "You're Harvison, aren't you?" I hailed him. "Don't be the first I must kill." I wheeled around. "My challenge isn't to the Newcomers alone. I said, nobody shall pass through. My sword, if not my voice, will stop this war, here and now."
I heard a laugh, deep and familiar. Gederr had come among his troops.
"That's logic for you!" he mocked me. "Barak was always a man of blood! He'll kill us all to stop this slaughter. Someone finish him."
One of his lieutenants spoke to two of the foremost men, who stepped forward, rifles at the ready.
"If they shoot—" began Doriza tremulously.
"If they do, they destroy everyone!" I reminded yet again. "Come, who dares. Swords if you will, but no fire!"
The officer who had given the order stepped between the two soldiers, saber drawn. "Ready to rush," he said. "My blade, your butts—"
They approached, side by side. Their faces were set, grim. They faltered for only a moment at the entry to the glare field.
In that moment I rushed them.