I asked Stephnos why there were so few men about, and he told me that they had been called up to the fort to which we were riding, to guard the frontier.
As we rode on again between the silver birch trees lining the road, he explained to me that they had but a small army for police and frontier work against raiders from other clans. Raids were not infrequent even in peace-time. Small affairs as a rule, however, which were frequently stopped for years together by mutual consent. His father’s regular troops amounted to some two thousand men, including those under his uncle in the northern part of their country.
But all able-bodied men were liable to military service for fourteen days in the year, and in case of invasion or threat of invasion for as long as required. He said we should see the men of this district when we got to the fort, which lay on the far side of the hill up which we were riding.
As we came over the crest, riding through fields of lucerne, Stephnos pointed out to me a big winding river that ran below us in a wide valley perhaps six miles and more across, and at the foot, some two miles away, a low, square fort on a small hillock jutting up sheer above the river.
As we drew nearer, we could see the glint of the sun on the sentries’ caps just above the parapets, and from the top of a little central tower a blue flag waved in the breeze.
Below the fort was a little village with one or two shops. Most of the buildings were, however, shut up, clear evidence of prospective war.
Our ponies clattered up the steep winding path to the fort through a narrow gateway on the edge of a precipitous drop. Two sentries clashed the iron butts of their short spears to the ground as we entered (Kyrlos had sent one of our escort ahead to warn them of our approach), and at the inner gate we found the captain of the fort waiting to greet us, a tall broad man in close-mail jerkin and steel cap, with a silver device let in in front. Kyrlos introduced him to us, and he saluted each of us in turn; but, when he heard that I was the man who had rescued Aryenis, he offered me the hilt of his sword. I owe a lot of stout friends to Aryenis, it seems. He was a quiet, determined-looking man, his natural good looks somewhat marred by an ugly gash across the forehead, which gave one eyelid rather a droop.
But his mouth was straight and honest, and I think a man’s mouth is the best index to his character, although his eyes may show more of passing emotions. I liked him then and there—his square-chinned bronzed face with the short yellow-brown moustache under the slightly aquiline nose, his steady blue-grey eyes looking straight out below the dark rim of his grey steel cap under which his bobbed yellow locks just showed, all gave one the impression of a leader of men. His name was Henga, and we learnt that he was the younger son of a big landholder in the district. Among the Sakae it is customary for the regular troops to be officered by the sons of the smaller chiefs from whose districts the men are drawn, forming thus to some extent a professional officer class.
We dismounted from our ponies, and, while Kyrlos was conferring with Henga, Stephnos showed us round the fort with its high stone walls and battlements, and the quarters for the garrison and the storerooms all along the lower part.
He said there was a chain of such forts along the frontier, covering the most important entries into the country.