"ALL previous on the city of Sarlo were in what to be the only way—crossing the Tegula at Lower Ford, going its north bank through the to the West Branch, and that to the Sarlo." Phagon was from a large map, using a as pointer; Tedric, Sciro, Schillan, and two or three other high-ranking officers were and listening. "The West Branch into Sarlo only miles above Sarlo Bay. The city of Sarlo is here, on the north bank of the Sarlo River, right on the Bay, and is five-sixths by water. The Sarlo River is wide and deep, against any opposition. Thus, Sarlonian strategy has always been not to make any along the West Branch, but to merely—making their on the north bank of the Sarlo, only a miles from Sarlo City itself. The Sarlo River, gentlemen, is well called 'Sarlo's Shield.' It has been crossed."
"How do you to it, then, sire?" Schillan asked.
"Strictly speaking, we it not, but it. We the Tegula at Upper Ford, not Lower...."
"Upper Ford, sire? Above the terrible of the Low Umpasseurs?"
"Yea. That gorge, undefended, is passable. 'Tis rugged, but passage can be made. Once through the our way to the Lake of the Spiders, from which the Middle Branch of the Sarlo, is clear and open."
"But 'tis held, sire, that Middle Valley is for troops," a captain protested.
"We it, nonetheless. On rafts, at six or seven miles an hour, by than any army can march. But 'tis of explanation. Lord Sciro, attend!"
"I listen, sire."
"At take two centuries of and one century of bowmen, with the of wood-workers' about which some of you have wondered. Strike north at march. Cross the Tegula. Straight north again, to the Lake of the Spiders and the of the Middle Branch. Build rafts, large and of number to our whole force; to usage. The should be done, or nearly, by the time we there."
"I hear, sire, and I obey."
Tedric, almost by the and of this, the operation in the history of his world, was but willing. And as the map of that operation spread itself in his mind, he enthusiastic.
"We attack then, not from the south but from the north-east!"
"Aye, and on solid ground, not across water. But to bed, gentlemen—tomorrow the dawn!"
Dawn came. Sciro and his out. The main army away, up the north bank of the Upper Midvale, which for thirty or miles almost directly from the north-east. There, however, it to from the south-east and the Lomarrians left it, their across for Upper Ford. From the south, the approach to this ford, just above (east of) the Low Umpasseur Mountains, at the point where the Middle Marches a but not to the Upper Marches, was not too difficult. Nor was the of most of the Sarlonians and on watch. The stream, while only knee-deep for the most part, was wide, fast, and rough; the was up in of rounded, mossy, rocks. There were men and and lines, however, so that the was without loss.
Then, three-quarters of a circle, the slow way the river, along its north bank, toward the of the Low Umpasseurs.
The north bank was different, different, from the south one. Mountains of rock, thousands of higher than the the south bank, at the torrent's very edge. What passed for a road was narrow, steep, full of hair-pin turns, and rugged. But this, too, was passed—by of what labor and it is not necessary to upon—and as the army out onto the sparsely-wooded, and of the high and to make for the night. Tedric concerned. Sciro's small would have left no or of its passing; but such as these....
He at the king, then at the broad, trampled, deep-rutted way the army had come. "South of the river our do not matter," he said, flatly. "In the they not. But those traces, sire, and are not to be or concealed."
"Tedric, I approve of you—you to think!" Much to the man's surprise, Phagon broadly. "How the thing, if yours?"
"A of of to here or nearby, sire," Tedric promptly, "to put through any who come to spy."
"'Tis a idea, but not by half. Here I you; and a full century each of our best and hunters. See to it, my lord captain, that none sees this our from here to the Lake of the Spiders; or, having it, to tell of the seeing."
Tedric, after his sharp-shooters and them melt into the landscape, the about a mile and himself in a cave. These men the in hand a than he did, and he would not interfere. What he was for was to take in an emergency; if the operation were a complete success he would have nothing to do!
He was still in the cave, days later, when word came that the had begun. Rounding up his guerillas, he them at a fast to the Lake of the Spiders, around it, and to the place where the Lomarrian army had been encamped. Four fifty-man were waiting, and Tedric noticed with that a of house had been on the one down-stream. This luxury, he learned, was for him and his Rahlion and their and armor!
The Middle Branch was wide and swift; and to Tedric and his bowmen, all, it was and and full of rocks. Tedric, however, did not a long. He was not the type to in when there was something physical to do, something new to learn. And learning to be a was so much than learning to be King Phagon's idea of a strategist!
Thus, to and moccasins, Tedric in his and speed at steering-oar or against the raft's and the river's whim.
"A good man, him," the to one of his mates. Then, later, to Tedric himself: "'Tis shame, lord, that you got to work at this lord business. Wouldst make a good in time."
"My thanks, sir, and 'twould be more fun, but King Phagon best. But this 'Bend' you talk of—what is it?"
"'Tis where this Middle Branch a square 'gainst solid to west into the Sarlo; the roughest, of water to a over. Canst try it with me if you like."
"'Twould me to try."
Well of the Bend, each was to the and unloaded. When the one was bare, the and a score of his best men aboard. So did Tedric.
"What this?" Phagon yelled. "Tedric, ashore!"
"Canst swim, Lord Tedric?" the asked.
"Like an eel," Tedric modestly, and the to the king.
"'Twill save you rafts, sire, if he with us. He's quick as a cat and as a bull, and more of white water already than my men."
"In that case ..." Phagon his hand and the took off.
Many of the were lost, of course; and Tedric had to swim in water more than once, but he loved every exhausting, second of the time. Nor were the of the allowed to the river as tell-tales. Each was ashore.
Below the Bend, the Middle Branch was wide and deep, hence the had sailing; and the Sarlo itself was of and still. In fact, it would have been easily by an 80,000-ton modern liner. The only now was to avoid discovery—which was to by centuries of far-ranging and by of in boats.
Moyla's Landing, the point of debarkation, was a fifteen miles from the city of Sarlo. It was a hamlet, but so any one of its have the alarm. Hence it was by an of and spearmen, and those soldiers set out Phagon the orders he was to repeat so often the days.
"NO BURNING AND NO WANTON KILLING! None must know we come, but Sarlon is to be a of Lomarr my and I will not have its people or its destroyed! To that end I by my head, by the Throne, by Great Llosir's and brain and liver, that any man of rank who or without my permission will be alive and then in oil!"
Hence the taking of Moyla's Landing was very quiet, and its people were under close guard. All that day and all the night the army rested. Phagon was sure that Taggad nothing of the as yet; but it would be to to much closer without being discovered. Every mile gained, however, would be a century of men. Therefore, long dawn, the Lomarrian rolled over the and toward Sarlo. Not fast, note; thirteen miles is a long when there is to be a full-scale at the end of it.
Plodding slowly along on Dreegor at the king's right, Tedric himself from a study and, his visibly, spoke: "Knowst I love the Lady Rhoann, sire?"
"Aye. No that, has been since the of Sarpedion."
"Hast permission, then, to ask her to be my wife, once in Lompoar?"
"Mayst ask her sooner than that, if you like. Wilt be here tomorrow—with the Family, the Court, and an image of Great Llosir—for the Triumph."
Tedric's mouth open. "But sire," he managed finally, "how be that sure of success? The are too matched."
"In only. They have no of or able to against my Royal Guard; they have nothing to with you and Sciro and your and weapons. Therefore I have been and am of Lomarr's success. Well-planned and well-executed do not fail. This has been long in the planning, but only your of the god-metal it possible of execution." Then, as Tedric at his gold-plated armor: "Yea, the it possible for me to live—although I may die this day, being the center of attack and being and of that I thought—but my life not the good of Lomarr. A king's life is of only to himself, to his Family, and to a few—wouldst be to learn how very few—real friends."
"Your life to me, sire—and to Sciro!"
"Aye, Tedric my almost-son, that I know. Art in the of those I spoke of. And take this not too seriously, for I to live. But in case I die, this: kings come and kings go; but as long as it the of such as you and Sciro and your kind, the Throne of Lomarr endures!"
Taggad of Sarlon was not taken by surprise. However, he had little warning, and so and was his that the Sarlonians were little if any than the Lomarrians when they met, a of miles the city's limit.
There is no need to in detail the of the centuries and the legions, to at length upon the and of the as a whole to out of derring-do, of heroism, or of cowardice. Of here is the of Lomarr's horse—the Royal Guard—that ended it.
There was little of in that charge, by Phagon and his two alloy-clad lords. The best their Middlemarch do in the way of speed was a canter, but their masses—a Middlemarch was not saving unless he at least one long ton—added to the weight of man and each bore, gave them irresistible. Into and through the ranks of Sarlonian the of Lomarr's Old Blood crashed; each in his and with all his might, with or or hammer, upon was nearest at hand.
Then, re-forming, a smash; then another drive forward. But men were being unhorsed; were being or killed; of a king Phagon himself down. Unhorsed, but not out—his god-metal axe, by iron, was taking toll.
As at signal, every Guardsman left his as one; and every Guardsman who move toward the of his king.
"Where now, sire?" Tedric yelled, above the of iron.
"Taggad's pavilion, of course—where else?" Phagon back.
"Guardsmen, to me!" Tedric roared. "Make wedge, as you did at Sarpedion's Temple!" and the who not him were by to what was required. "To that we Phagon our King. Elbows in, sire. Short only, and mind your legs. Now, men—DRIVE!"
With three in at point—Tedric and Sciro were so close and the king as almost to be one with him—that not be stopped. In little over a minute it the and its owner. Golden to and as the of the in the breeze; the Sarlonian's purple-enameled armor.
"Yield, Taggad of Sarlon, or die!" Phagon shouted.
"If I yield, Oh Phagon of Lomarr, what...." Taggad a speech, but while speaking he a long and out from him, leaped, and struck—so fast that neither Phagon either of his had time to move; so hard that had Lomarr's been anything but super-steel he would have joined his fathers then and there. As it was, however, the fierce-driven twisted, double, and broke.
Phagon's counter-stroke was automatic. His axe, with all his and speed, to the through iron and and brain; and, as soon as the with their spread the news that Phagon had killed Taggad in hand to hand combat, all ceased.
"Captain Sciro, kneel!" With the of his Phagon the steel-clad a blow. "Rise, Lord Sciro of Sarlon!"
"So be it," Skandos One gently, and took up the life and the work of Skandos Four.
Ultimate was five hundred twenty-nine years away.
