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 astounded Maxim. “Without our consent and unassisted by our criers and our district banner?”

“I have my own heralds, my own banner and my own consent,” replied Tuhar Wolf.

“But none of our people will attend your meetings. Our community abides only by those resolutions passed by the folk-court.”

“We’ll see about that!” retorted Tuhar stubbornly.

They were now abreast of the town criers who, perceiving the boyar, stopped and lowered the pole of the banner to the ground in front of them. One of the criers raised his voice and called out, “Boyar, Tuhar Wolf!”

“Present!” answered the boyar sullenly.

“Come tomorrow to the folk-mote!”

“What for?”

But the criers made no answer to his question, merely passed on their way.

“It is not their duty to answer questions,” explained Maxim, trying to avert any added disinclination the boyar might entertain against attending the meeting.

After a protracted interval of silence while they proceeded through the village streets, Maxim spoke again, “Sir, will you permit an humble but sincere young man to give you some advice?”

“Go ahead, speak!” replied the boyar.

“Come to the meeting tomorrow!”

“And put myself at the mercy of your peasant court?”

“Even so; you can rest assured, sir, that the Tukholian folk-court always gives an honest judgment. You would not consider it a disgrace to be judged fairly would you?”

“Please, father,” put in Peace-Renown, “do as Maxim asks you. I’m sure he is doing it all for your own good. He saved my life, father, that ought to prove he is not against you. He