Set at intervals were squat, powerful engines of wood and metal beside
which were heaps of huge, rounded boulders. Catapults I knew them to be
and around each swarmed a knot of soldiers, fixing the great stones in
place, drawing back the thick ropes that, loosened, would hurl forth
the projectiles. From each side came other men, dragging more of these
balisters; assembling a battery against the prodigious, gleaming monster
that menaced their city.
Between outer wall and inner battlements galloped squadrons of mounted
men. Upon this inner wall the soldiers clustered as thickly as on the
outer, preparing as actively for its defense.
The city seethed. Up from it arose a humming, a buzzing, as of some
immense angry hive.
Involuntarily I visualized the spectacle we must present to those
who looked upon us--this huge incredible Shape of metal alive with
quicksilver shifting. This--as it must have seemed to them--hellish
mechanism of war captained by a sorceress and two familiars in form of
men. There came to me dreadful visions of such a monster looking
down upon the peace-reared battlements of New York--the panic rush of
thousands away from it.
There was a blaring of trumpets. Up on the parapet leaped a man clad all
in gleaming red armor. From head to feet the close linked scales covered
him. Within a hood shaped somewhat like the tight-fitting head coverings
of the Crusaders a pallid, cruel face looked out upon us; in the fierce
black eyes was no trace of fear.
Evil as Norhala had said these people of Ruszark were, wicked and
cruel--they were no cowards, no!
The red armored man threw up a hand.
"Who are you?" he shouted. "Who are you three, you three who come
driving down upon Ruszark through the rocks? We have no quarrel with
you?"
"I seek a man and a maid," cried Norhala. "A maid and a sick man your
thieves took from me. Bring him forth!"
"Seek elsewhere for them then," he answered. "They are not here. Turn
now and seek elsewhere. Go quickly, lest I loose our might upon you and
you go never."
Mockingly rang her laughter--and under its lash the black eyes grew
fiercer, the cruelty on the white face darkened.
"Little man whose words are so big! Fly who thunders! What are you
called, little man?"
Her raillery bit deep--but its menace passed unheeded in the rage it
called forth.
"I am Kulun," shouted the man in scarlet armor. "Kulun, the son of
Cherkis the Mighty, and captain of his hosts. Kul
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