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Updated: June 14, 2025
Between him and his crimson-clad son flashed a glance; it was as though a triumphant devil sped from them into each other's eyes. I saw Ruth shrink into Ventnor's arms. Up from the wall rose a jubilant shouting, was caught by the inner battlements, passed on to the crowded terraces. "Take Kulun," it was Drake, pistol drawn and whispering across to me. "I'll handle Cherkis. And shoot straight."
"A parley," he shouted. "A parley, Norhala. If we give you the maid and man, will you go?" "Go get them," she answered. "And take with you this my command to Cherkis that HE return with the two!" For an instant Kulun hesitated. Up thrust the dreadful arms, poised themselves to strike. "It shall be so," he shouted. "I carry your command."
There was a stir upon the wall, a flashing of spears, of drawn blades. Two litters closed with curtainings, surrounded by triple rows of swordsmen fully armored, carrying small shields and led by Kulun were being borne to the torn battlement. Their bearers stopped well within the platform and gently lowered their burdens. The leader of those around the second litter drew aside its covering, spoke.
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.
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