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this Polden sounded rather like himself, because he always tried to be good but somehow he kept managing to do bad things, or so the grown-ups told him.
    â€˜Anyway,’ Grandfather went on, as the buzzard dwindled out of sight in the distance, ‘lots of people from other parts of the Empire got to hear about Polden and started believing in him too; and this annoyed the men who ruled the Empire, because they believed in a whole different lot of gods; and that just made them treat our people even more cruelly than they’d done before. In the end,’ Grandfather said, his eyes still fixed on the distant prospect of the farm, ‘our people tried to fight the Empire’s soldiers, but they lost; and the Emperor—’
    â€˜Who’s the Emperor?’
    â€˜The man who ran the Empire. He told his soldiers to round up all our people who’d tried to fight the soldiers, and their families too, and put them on two hundred ships and launch them out into the sea.’
    Ciartan gasped. It seemed a very harsh and unjust thing to do.
    â€˜It’d have been bad enough,’ Grandfather went on, ‘if they’d known these islands were here. But they didn’t. For all they knew, there wasn’t anything across the western sea but miles and miles of empty water, and our people would either have died of thirst or drowned. But they didn’t. Just when they were at the very end of their food and drinking-water, they woke up one morning and saw the very top of a mountain – not this one, it was one of the Broken River mountains on West Island – and they knew they were saved.’
    Ciartan had closed his eyes, as if to spare himself the horror of the exiles’ plight. He opened them, and sighed with relief. ‘What a terrible thing,’ he said.
    Grandfather smiled. ‘Not so terrible, as it turned out,’ he said. ‘Because this country is far, far better than Morevish, which is very hot and dry, and very little grows there; and besides, back then it was part of the Empire, while out here our people could be free.’
    â€˜Ah.’ That made sense, too; though Ciartan couldn’t help feeling it had been pure luck, and the fact that it was so nice here didn’t make what the Emperor had done any less wicked. ‘So,’ he said, ‘why’s this mountain called Polden’s Forge?’
    â€˜I was coming to that,’ Grandfather said. ‘You see, when our people first came here and saw the clouds of steam and found that the water in the springs was boiling hot, they imagined that their god Polden must have his forge right underneath this mountain; and that’s where the name comes from.’
    â€˜Oh,’ Ciartan said, enlightened. ‘I see .’
    â€˜Some people even said,’ Grandfather went on, ‘that when they first got here, they could see smoke and flames roaring up out of the top of the mountain, and the glowing coals of the forge fire. Mind you, nobody’s ever seen that since, so they were probably making it up.’
    A thought occurred to Ciartan, lodging in his mind like a fish-bone stuck in his throat. ‘But Grandfather,’ he said, ‘if Polden was a god in Morvitch—’
    â€˜Morevish.’
    â€˜Morryvitch,’ Ciartan amended. ‘If he lived there, how could he have his forge here, if it’s such a long way from there?’
    He got the impression that Grandfather hadn’t been expecting that. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Maybe they assumed Polden had come with them when they left.’
    â€˜What, on the ships, you mean?’
    â€˜I suppose so, yes.’
    Ciartan shook his head. ‘No, that can’t be right,’ he said. ‘Because if he came with them, and reached this place the same time they did, he wouldn’t have had time to build his forge, would he?’
    Grandfather frowned. ‘Oh, they believed gods could do