The weird pipes of the Amenalks shrilled their answer. The blue-painted men swept forward-- From the ranks of Sepher an arrow flew. It sped toward Aynger. It pierced his bare throat and drove deep--deep! The Amenalk leader bellowed; his huge body arced like a bow. Blood spouted from his mouth. A battalion charged out from the ranks of Kiriath. They sped toward the Amenalks, lances lowered, pennons flying. Aynger fell! Dead, he toppled from the rock into the lifted arms of his men. The pipes skirled. The Amenalks, bearing their leader, turned and fled back into the valley! Cursing, Elak dodged a shrewd thrust, killed his assailant, and spurred toward Sepher. The hilt of his rapier was slippery with blood. His body, under the chain armor, was a mass of agonizing bruises; blood gushed from more than one wound. His breath rasped in his throat. The stench of sweat and gore choked him; he drove over ground carpeted with the writhing bodies of men and horses. Down the valley Dalan fought and bellowed his rage. The battle-thunder crashed on the towering crags and sent deafening echoes through the Gateway. Still the trumpets of Kiriath called; still the drums and cymbals of Cyrena shouted their defiance. And still Sepher slew, coldly, remorselessly, his bronzed face expressionless. Kiriath gathered itself and charged. The forces of Cyrena were forced back, fighting desperately each step of the way. Back to the narrowing of the pass they were driven. High above the archers loosed death on Kiriath. With ever-increasing speed Sepher's army thrust forward. A gust of panic touched the ranks of Cyrena. A dragon banner was captured and slashed into flying shreds by keen blades. Vainly Elak strove to rally his men. Vainly the Druid bellowed threats. The retreat became a rout. Into the narrow defile the army fled, jammed into a struggling, fighting mob. An orderly retreat might have saved the day, for Kiriath could have been trapped in the narrow pass and crippled by boulders thrust down by the men stationed above. As it was, Cyrena was helpless, waiting to be slaughtered. Kiriath charged. * * * * * Quite suddenly Elak heard a voice. In through the mountains. Above the call of trumpets came the thin wailing of pipes. Louder it grew, and louder. From the side canyon the blue barbarians of Amenalk rushed in disorderly array. In their van a group ran together with lifted shields. Upon the shields was the body of Aynger! Weirdly, eerily, the ear-piercing skirling of the pipes of Amenalk shrilled out. The woad-painted savages, mad with blood-frenzy, raced after the corpse of their ruler. Dead Aynger led his men to war! The Amenalks fell on the rear of the invaders. Flails and scythes and blades swung and glittered, and were lifted dripping red. A giant sprang upon the shield-platform, astride the body of Aynger. In his hand he brandished a war-hammer. "Helm-Breaker!" he shouted. "He--Helm-Breaker!"