I heard the sudden, hesitant, choking cry of the newborn infant.

Genserix, broad-shouldered and powerful, in his furs and leather, with his heavy eyebrows, his long, braided blond hair and long, yellow, drooping mustache, looked up from the fire, about which we sat.  The sound came from one of the wagons.

The bawling was now lusty.

"It will live," said one of the men, a sitting warrior near us.

Genserix shrugged.  That would remain to be seen.  Feiqa knelt behind me.  We were now within the laager of Genserix, a chieftain of the Alars, a nomadic, wandering herding people, and one well-known, like the folks of Torvaldsland, for their skills with the ax.  The laager of the Alars, like that of similar folks, is a fortress of wagons.  They are ranged in a closed circle, or concentric, closed circles, draft animals, and women and children within.  Also, not unoften, depending on the numbers involved, and particularly when traversing, or sojourning in, dangerous countries, verr, tarsk and bosk may also be found within the wagon enclosure.  Sewage and sanitation, which might be expected to present serious problems, do not do so, because of the frequent moving of the camps.

"It is a son," said one of the women coming from the wagon, nearing the fire.

"Not yet," said Genserix.

The wagons often move.  There must be new grazing for the bosk.  There must be fresh rooting and browse for the tarsk and verr.  The needs of these animals, on which the and Alars depend for their existence, are taken to justify movements, sometimes even migrations, of the Alars and kindred peoples.  Needless to say, these movements, particularly when they intrude into more settled areas, often bring the folk of the laagers into conflict with others peasants and, of course, shortly thereafter, townsfolk and city dwellers who depend on the peasants for their foodstuffs.  Also, of course, their movements often, from a legal point of view, constitute actual invasions or indisputable territorial infringements, as when, uninvited, they enter areas technically within the jurisdiction or hegemony of given cities or towns.

Sometimes they pay for passage through a country, or pasturage within it, but this is the exception rather than the rule.  They are a fierce folk and it would take a courageous town indeed to suggest the suitability or propriety of such an arrangement.  From the point of view of the Alars, of course, they feel it is as absurd to pay for pasturage as it would be to pay for air, both of which are required for life.  "Without grass the bosk will die," they say.  "The bosk will live," they add.  They often find themselves temporarily within the borders of a town's or city's lands, usually about their fringes, but sometimes, depending on the weather and grazing conditions, much deeper within them.  Most often little official notice is taken of them, no war challenges being issued, and they are regarded merely as peripheral, unwelcome itinerants, uninvited guests, dangerous, temporary visitors with whom the local folks must for a time live uneasily.  It is a rare council or citizenry that does not breathe more easily once the wagons have taken their way out of their lands.

The woman who had come to bear tidings to Genserix now turned about and returned to the wagon.