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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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