There is no way to express my pleasure.

I concentrated on horses.

Half an hour later a giant black stallion appeared, trotted straight to me. The men were impressed.

I was impressed. I hadn't expected success. And that beast was only the first of four to respond. By the time the fourth arrived so had another hundred men. The hilltop was crowded.

I assembled them. "We've lost a battle, men. Some of you have lost heart, too. That's understandable. You weren't raised in a warrior tradition. But this war hasn't been lost. And it won't end while one Shadowmaster lives. If you don't have the stomach to stick it out, stay away from me. You'd better go now. I won't let you go later."

They exchanged worried glances but nobody volunteered to travel alone.

"We're going to head north. We'll gather food, weapons, and men. We'll train. We're coming back someday. When we do, the Shadowmasters will think the gates of hell have opened." Still nobody deserted. "We march at first light tomorrow. If you're with me then, you're with me forever." I tried to project a certainty that we could terrify the world.

When I settled for the night Ram posted himself nearby, my bodyguard whether or not I wanted one.

I drifted off wondering what had become of four black stallions that had not responded. We had brought eight south. They had been specially bred in the early days of the empire I had abandoned. One could be more valuable than a hundred men.

I listened to whispers, heard repeats of the terms Narayan had used. They troubled most of the men.

I noticed that Ram had his bit of folded cloth, too. His was saffron. He didn't keep it as fastidiously as did Narayan or Sindhu. Three men from two religions, each with a colored cloth. What was the significance?

Narayan kept the fire burning. He posted sentries. He imposed a modest discipline. He seemed altogether too organized for a vegetable dealer and former slave.