He was just climbing up to stand on the gate itself as Anketam turned.
Chief Samas was a tall man, lean of face and wide of brow. His smooth-shaven chin was long and angular, and his dark eyes were deeply imbedded beneath heavy, bushy eyebrows.
And he was dressed in clothing cut in a manner that Anketam had never seen before.
He stood there, tall and proud, a half smile on his face. It was several seconds before he spoke. During that time, there was no sound from the assembled farmers.
"Men," he said at last, "I think that none of you have seen this uniform before. I look odd in it, do I not?"
The men recognized The Chief's remark as a joke, and a ripple of laughter ran through the crowd.
The Chief's smile broadened. "Odd indeed. Yes. And do you perceive the golden emblems, here at my throat? They, and the uniform, indicate that I have been chosen to help lead the armed forces—a portion of them, I should say."
He smiled around at the men. "The Council of Chiefs has authorized the President to appoint me a Colonel of Light Tank. I am expected to lead our armored forces into battle against the damned Invaders."
A cheer came from the farmers, loud and long. Anketam found himself yelling as loud as anyone. The pronunciation and the idiom of the speech of the Chiefs was subtly different from those of the farmers, but Anketam could recognize the emphasis that his Chief was putting on the words of his speech. "Invaders." With a capital "I."
The Chief held up his hands, and the cheering died. At the same time, the face of Chief Samas lost its smile.