She said nothing, and after a few moments they realized that she wasn't joining into the argument on either side. "What is it?" Noyock asked.

"All this talk," Dilna said, "won't build the ships for us. And all the shouting doesn't find us a place to stay warm tonight. I want my husband to build me a shelter. We'll need tools to do it."

And Dilna turned around to find herself looking directly into Wix's eyes. She averted her gaze, found Hoom's concerned face. Behind her, she could hear Aven saying, "We can't give them tools — they'd build boats in a week. Not to mention busting our heads in."

Dilna whirled on him. "You should have thought of that before you stole our homes from us. I'm pregnant, Aven. Do you want me to spend the night in the open air?"

Noyock turned to Aven and said, mildly, "They're right. Maybe a few tools — enough to rig some kind of shelter before nightfall."

"Why?" Aven asked. "Not one of them but has parents that'd be only too glad to invite ‘em back into their homes."

Wix's father, the usually gentle Ross, raised his hand and said, "That's right, there's no hard feelings. We'd be glad to give them food and shelter!"

Wix's face was twisted with fury. "Give us food and shelter! There's not one of us but has plenty of food and shelter across the river! You stole it from us! You don't give us one damn thing! It's ours by right!"

"Rights, rights!" shouted Aven. "You little lying bastards don't have any rights!"

Dilna turned back to Wix and Hoom. "Enough, enough," she said quietly. "In a brawl we'd lose. Whatever we do, we can't do it here."

"She's right," Hoom said. "Let's go."

"Where?" Wix asked.

Hoom looked up the hill toward Noyock's Town. "The forest just north of the Pasture. We can take fence rails and rig a shelter."

Dilna turned back to Noyock. "Do you hear that, Noyock? We're going to take fence rails from you and build shelter. That way we won't have to touch your tools."

Noyock, eager to end the quarrel without violence, agreed, and Hoom, Wix, and the rest of the crowd straggled away from the beach, heading back up the hill. It was already afternoon, and there was much to do before night.

Noyock caught Dilna's arm before she could leave the beach. "Dilna — please listen. I want you to know, this wasn't my idea. When I got here, the boats were already burning."

"There's a law," Dilna said, "about destroying another man's property. You're the man who loves the law — imprison these men until Jason comes."

"I can't," Noyock said miserably. "There are too many of them."

"There are more than a few of us, too," Dilna retorted. "This is Linkeree and the ax all over again. Only you're not Kapock."

As she walked away, Noyock called after her: "It wasn't me that worked so bloody hard to strip all the power away from the Warden, it was you! If I still had that power, I could protect you!" But she didn't turn to answer. When she got to the brow of the hill, she stopped and looked back at the beach. Noyock was still there alone, watching the last flames die. On impulse she ran back down the hill, all the way to where he stood. "Warden," she said, "we'll need a fire tonight. Will Jason approve, do you think, of our taking some of the wood from our ships to start it?"

He set his face like stone and turned away. She picked up a piece of wood that was still burning on one end, and whose other end had been in the water until then. And once again she climbed the hill.

The people of Stipock's Bay were gathered in a small clearing in the forest, trying to turn fence rails, branches, and dead leaves into lean–tos for the night. Few of them looked sturdy, and Dilna looked at the sky, grateful that the clouds had gone, and the sky was clear. When Wix saw the torch, he smiled. "Wise woman," he said, and called to several men to rig a fire. Again, they had to use fence rails, so the fire was built in a large square, hollow in the middle. "I only wish we could burn down the whole damn fence," Wix said, as he lit the fire.

"Burning's a good idea," said a voice from the edge of the clearing. Many of the people working turned to see who it was. Billin.

"Ah, Billin," said Wix. "I thought you were still down in Firstfield, giving a speech."

"The time for speeches is over."

"How clever," Wix said. "Now he realizes that."

"I just saw the ashes of our boats," said Billin, raising his voice to be heard by all. "I just saw the ruins of our last hope for peace! And I say to you —"

What he was going to say to them no one knew, because at that moment Wix strode forward and struck him so hard in the stomach that Billin's feet left the ground, and he collapsed, gasping, in the dirt.

"The ruins of our last hope for peace aren't on the beach, Billin!" Wix shouted. "The ruins are back in Firstfield, when you and the pebblebrained oxen who followed you wrecked the only compromise we could have had! It was you that caused the burning of our boats, Billin! So you can shut up for a few days, or I'll put you deep enough in the river that you'll be singing to the fishes for eternity!"

The silence rang out after Wix finished his impassioned speech. Then Billin groaned, and slowly dragged himself to his feet. Everyone got back to work. But when conversations resumed, they were more bitter than ever before.

When night fell, they gathered around the fire, staring at the flames. Some women from Noyock's Town and Linkeree's Bay brought food before dark. It wasn't enough, but it was something, and they swallowed their pride and ate it. Now they sat and watched the fence rails shrink in the fire.

"I've been thinking all day about what Billin said," Hoom said in one of the dismal lulls in the conversation. "And I think he's right. Burning's a good idea."

"And what do we burn, the whole city?" asked Wix, scornfully.

"No, no," Hoom said. "But the old people, they've hated the boats from the beginning, the boats have meant our freedom from them. They burned them." Hoom stood up and walked around the fire. He was no orator, but the very quietness of his speech made them listen all the more. "Well, there's a few things they've been using as weapons against us. The Warden, for instance." Someone laughed and said, "Does that mean we burn Noyock?"

Hoom smiled and shook his head. "Noyock's done us no harm. Just his office. There's something else, though. The History."

Several people snorted. The History, constantly held over their heads as "proof" that things must be done the old way.

"They burned our boats," Hoom said. "So let's burn their History. It's far less harm than they've done to us. You know what our fields will be like if we let them sit for a month, unharvested. My fruit trees will be bare, with the fruit rotting on the ground. They've destroyed our homes and our livelihoods — nobody could say we've been excessive if we destroy their stupid History."

A few chuckled, and the idea began to look more appealing.

Wix spoke up. "Easily said. But they're armed against us, and they'll fight to protect it. It's — it's a God–thing to them, they keep it for Jason. They'll fight."

"So," Hoom said, "we won't announce what we're after. Not a large number of us, either. We'll just wait until everybody's asleep at Noyock's house, and we'll break in, rush up the stairs, and burn the damn thing before they even know what we're about."

"Break in? Is it that easy?"

"It will be for me. I can get in," Hoom said. And so the plan was made. The crescent moon was high in the sky as they emerged from the forest, far to the west of their camp. Only one of them held a torch; the rest carried unlit torches and kindling wood. They walked in silence, and approached the tall house from the west, where it was less likely that anyone would be watching.

There were no lights in the house, and so they, set immediately to work. Wix pointed to a spot beside the house, and the kindling was laid down: Then Hoom, who carried the lit torch, ignited the kindling. As it flamed, they all put their torches in. After a few minutes, they were all ablaze. Then Hoom raised his torch, and they all followed him to the kitchen door.