"Why do the soldiers cheer?" he asked.
Mazoe listened intently to the shouting.
"They cheer because the king is coming," he answered.
Everson smiled faintly.
"Tell him--I have made--a way--for him--"
His voice trailed away, and he sank into unconsciousness. And though
he did not die, he sailed so near to the quiet coasts that it was many
weeks before he knew that the work he had begun had gone on without
him, and had been done well.
CHAPTER VIII
BEL-AR HEARS THE DRUMS
In the early brightness of the morning, the king of Ruthar rode up the
southern stretch of the slope toward the wall. With him came old Zenas
and Oleric the Red.
Bedight in chain mail rode the king, a shield of shining steel on his
arm, his two-handed sword at his back, dagger in belt, and spear and
battle-ax at saddle-bow. Behind him clattered a company of zinds. Back
of them, down the long road as far as the eye could see, marched rank
on rank of men-at-arms. These were to pass the wall at once, and push
on along the isthmus to meet and hold any force which the captains of
Bel-Ar might throw against them.
In the camp in the forest, ready to ride when the way should be
cleared, were thousands of the wild horsemen of the hills. As soon as
they might pass the breach, they would outstrip the heavy-marching
infantry, spread and harry the country, and dash into the mountain
passes at the northern end of the isthmus, which must be taken and held
before any considerable force could come up from Maeronica and occupy
them.
Behind, the horsemen would push on the footmen and the chariots which
made up the main host of Ruthar. Such was the plan which had been laid
by Everson, Polaris, and Oleric.
As they neared the top of the rise, Polaris and those with him met a
little clump of downcast men plodding along the road and carrying a
burden. Then Mazoe saw the riders and ran to meet them, holding his
arms above his head and weeping.
"What says he? Everson--"
Polaris sprang down from his horse and pushed through the tramping men.
Behind him an army halted while he stood and looked into the still face
of Everson. In the heart of the son of the snows there entered a pang
as keen as that which had stabbed it when he had heard of the passing
of the Sardanian King Minos and his lady.
But Zenas Wright, who had bent over the lieutenant, and bared his
breast and listened to his heart, spoke up:
"This boy has been hard hit; but he's still alive. With good care--and
he's going to get it--I think he has a chance. This jab over the
shoulder isn't so bad as it looks."
"Look at him, Father Zenas," said Polaris. "Let no effort that this
land can produce be spared to make him whole again; for he is a gallant
gentleman, and deserves no such death. His reward from Ruthar for what
he has done shall be great."
Mazoe told all his story, and Polaris bent and took the earth-stained
hand of the unconscious man in his own.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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