sly.

Company after company of the troops marched into this terrible
death-trap, and not a man of all of them ever came back. Nor was it
Phorenice's policy that they should do so. In her lust for this final
conquest, she was minded to pour out troops till she had filled up the
passes with the slain, so that at last she might march on to a
level fight over the bridge of their poor bodies. It was no part of
Phorenice's mood ever to count the cost. She set down the object which
was to be gained, and it was her policy that the people of Atlantis were
there to gain it for her.

Two gates then had she carried in this dreadful fashion, slaughtering
those Priests that stood behind, them who had not been already shot
down. And here I came down from above to take my share in the fight.
There was no trumpet to announce my coming, no herald to proclaim my
quality, but the Priests as a sheer custom picked up "Deucalion!" as a
battle-cry; and some shouted that, with a King to lead, there would be
no further ground lost.

It was clear that the name carried to the other side and bore weight
with it. A company of poor, doomed wretches who were hurrying up stopped
in their charge. The word "Deucalion!" was bandied round and handed
back down the line. I though with some grim satisfaction, that here was
evidence I was not completely forgotten in the land.

There came shouts to them from behind to carry on their advance; but
they did not budge; and presently a glittering officer panted up, and
commenced to strike right and left amongst them with his sword. From
where I stood on the high rampart above the gate, I could see him
plainly, and recognised him at once.

"It matters not what they use for their battle-cry," he was shouting.
"You have the orders of your divine Empress, and that is enough. You
should be proud to die for her wish, you cowards. And if you do not
obey, you will die afterwards under the instruments of the tormentors,
very painfully. As for Deucalion, he is dead any time these nine years."

"There it seems you lie, my Lord Tatho," I shouted down to him.

He started, and looked up at me.

"So you are there in real truth, then? Well, old comrade, I am sorry.
But it is too late to make a composition now. You are on the side of
these mangy Priests, and the Empress has made an edict that they are to
be rooted out, and I am her most obedient servant."

"You used to be skilful of fence," I said, and indeed there was lit