Half an hour later saw us in sight of the fort, and presently, riding through the little village, we found Henga with a strong guard behind him waiting for us below the fort gate.
“The Shaman envoy is out on the open space,” he said as he greeted us. “I fear treachery, and all my men above are at their stations. But I know not what the plan may be, for the envoy has but a dozen men, though all well horsed.”
“Is he alone?” asked Kyrlos, as we dismounted.
“No. Besides the envoy there is Atana, the chief Shaman’s nephew, whom you remember at the last council when I commanded your escort, sir: one against whom I have a score to pay; an evil-looking man of bad repute even among the Shamans. The envoy I know not.”
Kyrlos looked at me.
“Those clothes of yours are noticeable, Harilek. I think we will change them. Henga, send a man for a spare set of yours and a mail shirt from the armoury.”
Within ten minutes or so I was arrayed in a suit of Henga’s clothes, which, barring being a shade loose, for he was a broader man than I, fitted me well. The mail jerkin he gave me was light and comfortable, while the steel cap fitted reasonably, and was lighter than the battle bowler one wore in old days.
I told Payindah to conceal his rifle in his poshtin, and to keep among Henga’s men out of sight of the Shamans. Just as we were starting, Kyrlos seemed to remember something, and told me to bring the steel helmet we had taken in the gate, but to keep it hidden for the present.
We passed through the camp below the fort, and on the far side of the open space beyond it saw a dozen men standing by their horses. From the cut of their clothing it was clear to me that these must be the envoy’s party. In the centre of the parade-ground a willow branch was set up, which I discovered later was the sign that there was truce for four hundred paces around. This was the custom when envoys came in time of war.
Kyrlos, Henga, and I walked out to the willow branch, and then Henga called upon the Shaman envoy to deliver his message.