"You are the swiftest among us, priestess," cried the Warrior Chieftain. "You must reach the god-box."
Then Meg saw that Lora had not been inactive. She had gathered about her all those of the Clan who were not disabled. A motley crew they were. Hard-lipped Warriors, coarse-skinned Workers. There were even—amazingly—three breeding-mothers in that little band! Their billowing hips and pale, soft faces were strange attributes for a fighting woman, but their eyes were lighted with the same fire that suffused the eyes of Meg and Lora.
One of these, a woman named 'Ana, said now to Meg, "Once long ago, Priestess, I too aspired to be a Mother. It was not so fated, and this more humble lot became mine. But I will do my little part for you, for the Mother, and for the Clan—"
Lora interrupted crisply, "You're slim, Meg, and you're fast. We will create a disturbance at the door—" A tight and humorless smile played upon her lips. "Then must you break through the window, somehow reach the god-box."
Meg nodded. Her right arm dangled loosely at her side, but the pain that had seared it was devoured now in a greater intensity, a more vital urge. "So be it, Lora!"
"Then strike, Women!" cried the chieftain. Strong shoulders struck the door with ravaging force; wood splintered, and the door burst from its hinges like a splitting pod. Outside, the two yellow guards wheeled, their eyes wide, their hands streaking for the ray-sticks in their harnesses. One raised a shout.
Meg had only time to see that her Clanswomen were pounding through the doorway, that both guards had fallen before them, that the tumult had drawn the attention of the yellow men assembled in their tactical circle. All eyes were focused on the escaping prisoners spilling from the door; no one noticed as she clambered awkwardly from the window on the farther side of the hoam.
It was Meg's village; she knew its every twist and turn. She did not take at all times to the shortest route; she chose that which would disclose her least as she moved toward the vulnerable spot of the Japcan defense; the god-box.
But if the dwarfs could not see her, neither could she see them. She marked the progress of the split battle by those few sounds she could identify. Most important was the fact that she did not again hear Grensu's voice raised in the commands to drop and raise the force-wall. Destruction was, then, not presently breathing through the ranks of the Wild Ones....