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warriors’ banners, their cloaks and plumes and their flowing manes were all fluttering along the course of the wind; solemn were their faces, yet the spark of patriotic pride glinted fiercely in their eyes. A kind of hush rested upon them. The only sounds were the ringing of metal, the clanking of jointed armor plates, the occasional heavy stamp of a booted foot, and the soughing and snapping of flags in the breeze. Sunlight glanced from burnished lames and steel vambraces, flickering like silver sparks as each man shifted balance slightly, or turned into the wind, never taking his eyes from the platform whereon his sovereign presided in full panoply beneath the venerated emblem of the Burning Brand. The High Commander of the Slievmordhuan armed forces stood at King Uabhar’s left hand, while the Commander-in-Chief of the Knights waited at his right, ready to speak. The voice of Conall Gearnach was powerful, and he possessed the knack of broadcasting his messages over a vast area. In this, today, he was aided by the direction of the blowing airs.
    The flags having been lowered on every city building, Gearnach stepped forward, drew breath and launched into his monologue. Uabhar himself had written the speech for the knight to memorize word for word, and it was an oration so awe-inspiring, yet somehow
disturbing,
that it made Prince Ronin Ó Maoldúin review every precept on many an unquiet night from that hour. The utterances haunted him ever after, but he could not really say why.
    “Sons of Slievmordhu,” Gearnach had cried in stirring tones, “thousands of you are gathered here upon the Fair Field of Cathair Rua. On this day, you will together swear an oath of loyalty and obedience to King Uabhar Ó Maoldúin.
    “You are swearing your oath on a feast-day that Slievmordhu celebrates for the first time—the Day of Heroes. We lower our flags in remembranceof those who lived as heroes, and died as heroes. We lower our flags in memory of the giants of our past, the countless numbers who fought for Slievmordhu in the Goblin Wars.
    “Woe to the country that fails to honor its heroes, for it will cease to bring them forth! A country without heroes is a country without leaders, for only a heroic leader is truly able to withstand the challenge of difficult times. The rise or fall of a realm can be determined by the presence or absence of a great king.
    “Slievmordhu demands loyalty from you, not only in deed, but in character. Loyalty in character is a heroic virtue; unbreakable loyalty, a loyalty that knows no weakening. Loyalty in character means absolute obedience that does not question the results of an officer’s command, nor its reasons, but rather obeys for the sake of obedience itself. Such obedience is an expression of heroic character when following orders leads to personal disadvantage or even seems to contradict one’s personal convictions. King Uabhar Ó Maoldúin must know that when he commands, or allows a command to be given, that every man will obey absolutely, down to the last drummer-boy.
    “Sons of Slievmordhu, you have given the same absolute loyalty to our king that Slievmordhu’s warriors gave long ago during the Goblin Wars, which demanded their heroic deaths for the good of the kingdom. You have the great fortune to live in a realm that the best soldiers of that era could only dream of—a kingdom that for all eternity will remain strong and united if you do your duty. For you, doing your duty means: Obey the king’s orders without question! Thereby you will be the best living memorial to the dead heroes of past wars.
    “Be ever aware that you owe thanks to King Uabhar Ó Maoldúin, for his government enables victory and prosperity. Whoever you are, be you high or low, work for his ideals, and therefore for Slievmordhu. The reward for your labors is knowing you have done your duty for all that is right. It is an honor to fight, suffer, risk, bleed and sacrifice for our country’s future. You