Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction; Tarzan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
But now his whole attention was riveted by the fighting in the first
two lines of the advancing horde. Racing neck and neck with the
Veltopismakusian warriors were the men of Adendrohahkis' outpost and
the thousands who had reinforced them. Each had selected an enemy
rider whom he sought to strike from his saddle, and at top speed each
duel was carried on with keen rapiers, though here and there was a
man wielding his spear, and sometimes to good effect. A few riderless
diadets leaped forward with the vanguard, while others, seeking to
break back or to the flanks, fouled the racing ranks, often throwing
beasts and riders to the ground; but more frequently the warriors
leaped their mounts entirely over these terrified beasts. The riding
of the Minunians was superb, and their apparently effortless control
of their swift and nervous steeds bordered upon the miraculous. Now a
warrior, lifting his mount high into the air, cleared an adversary and
as he rose above him cut down viciously with his rapier at his foeman's
head, striking him from the saddle; but there was scarce time to catch
more than a fleeting, kaleidoscopic impression of the swift moving
spectacle before the great horde swarmed down upon him.
With his leafy bough, Tarzan had thought to sweep the little men from
his path, but now friend and foe were so intermingled that he dared not
attempt it for fear of unseating and injuring some of the warriors of
his hosts. He raised the bough above their heads and waited until the
first lines should have passed him and then, with only the enemies of
Adendrohahkis about him, he would brush them aside and break the center
of their charge.
He saw the surprised expressions upon the faces of the men of
Veltopismakus as they passed near him--surprise, but no fear--and he
heard their shouts as one more fortunate than his fellows was able
to rein closer to him and cut viciously at his legs as he sped past.
Then indeed it became naught other than a matter of self-preservation
to attempt to fend these off with his bough, nor was this impossible
as the first lines moved past in loose ranks; but presently the solid
mass of the Veltopismakusian cavalry was upon him. There was no veering
aside to avoid him. In unbroken ranks, file after file, they bore
down upon him. He threw his useless bough before him to impede their
progress and grappled them with his fingers, tearing the riders from
their mounts and hurling them back upon their onrushing fellows; but
still they came.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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