Anderson, Poul - Vault of the Ages by Anderson Poul

Author:Anderson, Poul
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

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Day dragged into night. Once the door was opened, and a silent woman gave them some bowls of food. The life of the City went by in the street, folk on their various errands; many spat in the direction of the jail. With darkness there came silence, and presently the captives slept.

They woke with dawn and sat staring at each other. Finally Carl spoke, awkwardly, "I'm sorry I got you into this."

"It's all right," said Tom. "We didn't have to come along."

"What will we do?" asked Owl.

"Nothing," said Tom.

The morning waxed. They were given breakfast and then left alone. The guard was changed, another man sat yawning outside the prison. A terrible bitterness grew in Carl, and he vowed that never again, if he lived, would he keep an animal behind bars.

Late in the morning the boys heard shouts far away. They crowded to the door and strained against it, star-ing out at blank walls across the street. The guard rose, hefting his spear and peering warily about him.

"Rescue?" cried Owl hopefully.

"I doubt it," said Tom. "I don't think the gods are done with punishing us."

108 Vault of the Ages A scream rang out somewhere, and the sound of trampling hoofs, and a man's laugh like wild dogs bay-ing. Carl stiffened in a sudden terror. He knew that laughter.

Hoo-oo-oo!

A horn was blowing, and now the rattle of iron swept near. Three women ran down the street, clutching chil-dren to them, screaming. The guard outside the jail ran from sight toward the noise of battle.

"Someone's fighting their way into the City!" yelled Tom.

Carl gripped himself, biting back fear. His knuckles were white where he clutched the bars of the jail. He tried to shake them—useless, useless. He was locked in here and there was nothing he could do.

"Hold fast! Drive them back!"

It was the voice of the patrol leader who had wanted to kill him, and Carl had to admit the man was brave. Swords were banging, a horse neighed, a man screamed.

Backing down the street came a thin line of witch-men. They bore weapons in shaking hands, and many were bleeding from wounds. Even as Carl watched, a bow thrummed and a City dweller toppled with an arrow in him, coughing and clawing.

"All right, men—ride 'em down!"

Lenard!

The horsemen of Lann came like a whirlwind, lances at rest, swords flashing free, plumes and mantles streaming in their thunderous passage. They struck the witch-line with a roar, and it broke before them.

Hewing, hewing, the Lann rode through that boiling tide of men. The City folk turned to run.

A mounted

Vengeance of the Gods 109

warrior galloped after them, laughing aloud. The battle swept on out of sight.

"Lenard," groaned Carl.

The noise of fighting grew more distant. There could be only one end to that struggle, even if the Lann were outnumbered. The unwarlike City men could not stand before the determined, ruthless onslaught of trained warriors.

"But this is taboo for them," gasped Tom.

"Not any longer, it seems." Owl skinned his teeth in a mirthless grin.

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