‘We’ll find passage elsewhere,’ she said, turning away. One of Cris-yen’s brothers stepped forward, grabbing her arm.
‘There’s nowhere else, you’d better listen to him,’ he said.
‘Take your hand off my arm,’ said the woman icily.
The man laughed. ‘Or what?’
The woman ducked her head, hammering her brow into his nose. The man released her and staggered back but she leapt, her foot cracking against his chin and catapulting him back into the crowd. Yos-shiel saw the soldiers watching from the ramparts but they made no move to interfere.
‘That was an assault!’ yelled Cris-yen. ‘Take her!’ Several men rushed forward. The woman downed the first with a straight left. The smaller of her companions rushed in and threw himself at the others; he and several men tumbled to the ground.
‘That’s enough!’ bellowed the silver-bearded giant. The sound boomed around the stockade and all activity ceased as he stepped in close to Cris-yen. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you seem to be the lead bull of the pox-ridden herd. Perhaps you and I should decide the issue.’
Cris-yen said nothing, but his huge fist hammered into the man’s chin. The giant took the blow and did not move. He merely grinned. ‘By God, son, if that is the best you have to offer you are in serious trouble,’ he said. Cris-yen tried to throw a left, whereupon the giant blocked it with his right and slapped Cris-yen open-handed across the cheek. The sound was like snapping timber. Cris-yen staggered to his right – then, head down, rushed the giant. The charge was met by a right cross that smashed Cris-yen’s jaw and spun him from his feet. He hit the ground face down, twitched once and was still.
‘A chin like crystal,’ muttered the giant. ‘Any more for the fray?’ No one moved. The man walked to the unconscious Cris-yen and calmly removed the embroidered red shirt. Pulling off his own tunic, he donned the garment. ‘A little tight,’ he said, ‘but it will do.’ Without hurry he stripped Cris-yen naked and clothed himself in the man’s leather leggings and black boots. ‘That feels better,” he said. ‘Now who is in charge here?’
Yos-shiel stepped from the crowd. ‘I am sir.’
‘Then it is with you we should discuss passage?’
‘It is. And you are welcome to travel free of any charges.’
‘Good. That is most hospitable. I am Ironhand, this is my daughter Sigarni and her friend, Ballistar.’
‘I can see why you earned your name,’ said Yos-shiel.
Yos-shiel offered his guests wine and food, and if he was offended by their refusal to eat, he did not show it. Ballistar liked the little old man, and listened with relish as he told of his troubles with Cris-yen.
‘I don’t believe he will cause you more trouble for a while yet,’ said Ironhand, ‘but if you’ll take my advice you’ll promote a man to take his place immediately, and then dismiss all of his henchmen.’
‘I shall,’ said Yos-shiel, ‘although I would be grateful if you could stay beside me while I do the deed.’
‘Gladly,’ promised Ironhand.
‘I was amazed that Cris-yen fell so swiftly to you. I have seen him break men’s arms, and cudgel them down with hammer blows from his fists.’
‘They breed them tough where we come from,’ said Ballistar.
‘And where is that?’ asked Yos-shiel.
‘South,’ answered Ballistar vaguely, wishing he had kept his mouth shut.
‘We are from another world, Yos-shiel,’ said Sigarni, moving to sit on the desk opposite the old man. ‘We passed through a magical Gateway.’
The trader smiled, waiting for the end of the joke. When it didn’t come his smile vanished. ‘You … are wizards?’
‘No,’ said Sigarni, ‘but a wizard sent us. We have come to reclaim something that was lost in this world, and return it to our own.’
‘The sunlight,’ said the old man. ‘That was you, in the south. What did you do?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Sigarni. ‘You mean the break in the clouds?”
‘Yes. It’s been years since we’ve seen the sun. Can you make it come at will?’
‘I did nothing, Yos-shiel. It was merely my bow. The wood began to sprout leaves and root itself in the soil. Then the sun shone.’