WHEN the first cross street was reached by the improvised tanks, there was a fierce charge of rodal cavalry from both sides against the advancing machines. The drivers of the machines hurled grenades into the foremost ranks of enemy cavalry, then made a swift countercharge.
The huge steel jaws which had been designed to bite through solid rock now snapped like living animals at the fighting men and their mounts. Warriors were bitten completely in two, and a single snap was sufficient to kill or maim a rodal. Around the edges of the melee the flying warriors of the Commoner continued to hurl their grenades, harmless to the men in the metal turrets.
The sanguinary engagement was soon ended, with the scattered remnants of the Torturer’s forces dashing off down the side streets.
At the next cross street a charge of foot soldiers met the advancing forces. But these were even more easily scattered than the cavalry. After that there was no more opposition until the palace was reached. Here Sarkis had concentrated the bulk of his most seasoned fighting men.
The army of the Commoner did not attack at once. Instead, it split into two columns, which went to the right and left, circling the palace until it was completely surrounded. Now a thousand metal fighting machines faced the building from all sides.
When all was in readiness, the machines advanced first. Some of them charged up to doorways, others straight up to the wall. But no matter what was in front of them, they went to work to remove it, biting out and swallowing great chunks of the wall, and eating away the tremendous arches that framed the metal doors.
Swiftly, machines excavated tunnels through the base of the wall. And as rapidly, others tore away the door frames and arches. Presently one machine ripped out a huge metal door, and charged through into a closely packed mass of defenders. Behind it came Jerry’s foot soldiers, hurling grenades as they went. As soon as they were through the doorway, the rodal cavalry charged in after them and deployed to the right and left. At almost the same time other machines were breaking through the walls and tearing down the doors, to encounter similar resistance and employ like measures. And soon the greatest battle ever fought in all Kalsivar was raging within the huge palace itself.
In the meantime Jerry, followed by Yewd, Koha and a score of his warriors, met with a check as he plunged through the hole in the door of Junia’s apartment in pursuit of her masked abductor. For Sarkis had posted a considerable body of fighting men in the corridor, and these outnumbered the Earthman’s little band at least five to one.
Jerry, wielding his sword, was in the front and center as the two forces clashed. At his side was the giant Yewd, using by preference in these close quarters, a short, thick-shafted spear. At Yewd’s left, Koha the black dwarf swung his huge mace with great, smashing blows that snapped sword blades, crushed skulls like eggshells, and bit through bone and sinew alike. Behind them the small squad of the Earthman’s picked fighters used such weapons as best met the emergency or suited their fancy.
Fully half of their number were cut down before the Sarkis warriors realized that it was sure death to step in front of the spear of the white giant, the sword of the Commoner, or the mace of the black dwarf. But once this realization came to them, they fled more swiftly than they had come to the encounter a short time before.
Bleeding from half a dozen small wounds, and panting from his exertions, Jerry paused and leaned on his dripping sword, while one of his warriors applied jembal to his injuries. Yewd and Koha also had their wounds dressed. Then his eyes chanced to fall on one of the brown warriors who had been felled by the mace of Koha.
Apparently it had only struck him a glancing blow, for he was moaning and attempting to rise. “Fetch me that warrior,” Jerry ordered.
Two of his men removed the fellow’s weapons, picked him up, and laid him at the feet of the Earthman.
“Give him pulcho,” said Jerry.
A soldier produced a flask and put it to the man’s lips. He drank deeply and brightened perceptibly.
“Get up,” the Earthman ordered.
He got to his feet, swaying unsteadily.
“Where has the Torturer gone?”
“I don’t know.”
“You lie!” grated Jerry. “Throw him on his back and open his mouth.”
Swiftly, the warriors carried out his orders. Jerry took a small bottle of fire powder from his belt pouch, and standing over the prisoner, leisurely removed the stopper.
“A few grains in the eyes might make you talk,” he said. “I will try that first. If it fails then the mouth.”
Jerry let a single grain of the powder fall upon his perspiring cheek. It flared up, and the man screamed as it seared his skin.
“Stop! Wait! I’ll tell you!” he shrieked.
“Ah, that is better,” Jerry told him. “I am more than just, for I am merciful. If you tell me the truth this time, you will be spared.”
“Before he went,” said the prisoner, “I heard the Lord Sarkis tell our jen to meet him in the central audience chamber.”
“Is that all he said?” asked Jerry.
“He said that in case the battle went against us, he had a hostage for the sake of whose safety the Commoner would grant us all our freedom.”
Jerry corked the fire powder and replaced it in his belt pouch.
“To the central audience chamber,” he said, “and bring the prisoner with us, until we make sure he has told us the truth.”
When they reached the main floor platform, they heard the sudden deafening clamor of battle. Jerry went cautiously to the door to reconnoiter, and saw that his fighting machines had broken into the palace. Behind them, his foot soldiers were hurling grenades into the massed defenders, creating fearful carnage among them. And a moment later his rodal cavalry charged in. From that time on, only cold steel was used.
In a moment the wave of battle had reached the door where the Earthman stood, as the forces of the Torturer fell back before the fierce onslaught of the desert tribesmen. Foot by foot, the forces of the Torturer were cut down or forced back, until Jerry’s men were at the very doors of the audience chamber, and the remnant of Sarkis’s army was inside it.
Suddenly the clarion notes of a trumpet sounded from the center of the vast room. In the military language of Mars, they were a request for a truce.
Looking up, Jerry saw the herald standing on the lower step of the central dais. But at the top stood the masked Torturer. He was supporting Junia with his left arm. And in his right hand gleamed a dagger.
Instantly the Earthman called for a herald, and when he came running up, ordered him to sound the “Truce granted.”
As the silver tones broke over that vast assemblage, the din of battle ceased as if by magic. Then the sepulchral tones of the Torturer floated across the room to Jerry, sitting his rodal in the doorway.
“Desperate situations call for desperate remedies. We do not ordinarily sacrifice women with the dagger, but the moment one armed enemy sets foot within this room, Junia Sovil dies.”
“My men will respect the truce so long as yours do,” said Jerry. “What do you want?”
“Freedom,” replied the Torturer. “You will immediately order that a gawr for me, and one for each of my men be saddled, provisioned and made ready on the palace roof at once. And in earnest of your own good intentions you will lay down your arms and join my other prisoner, to be kept as a hostage until we are ready to depart.”
“Release the Princess now, and I pledge you my word that you and your warriors shall all go free and unharmed,” said Jerry.
“Do you take me for a fool?” the Torturer roared. “I am not so gullible as all that.”
“Very well,” said Jerry, “I will accept your terms. But if you attempt any tricks, you and those with you will never leave this palace alive.”
Vaulting down from his saddle, he removed his weapons and handed them, one by one, by Koha and Yewd. While he did so he rapidly issued instructions to them. Then, as he handed his dagger to the black dwarf, a courier came running up.
“What is it?” asked Jerry.
“Numin Vil and Manith Zovil are at the Gate of Victory with a vast army,” said the messenger. “They demand that we immediately throw the gates open to them, and say that failing in this, they will take the city by assault and slay all of us.”
“Tell them,” the Earthman replied, “that pressing business here at the palace prevents my meeting them and escorting them hither. Tell them I have weapons that would destroy their armies as easily as they did that of the Torturer. But say that I invite them to come here and meet me for a friendly conference, guaranteeing them safe conduct. Then, if they consent to come, bring them in my swiftest metal flier. But see that none of their flying warriors are permitted to pass above the walls.”
Jerry whispered a final, “Don’t forget the signal,” to Yewd and Koha. Then he turned and marched weaponless through the doorway.
The Torturer’s warriors opened their ranks to let him pass, and fearlessly he strode up to the dais.